


Coffee's For Closers

by emotionaldun



Category: Voltron - Fandom, Voltron: Legendary Defender, keith/lance - Fandom, klance - Fandom, lance/keith - Fandom
Genre: ALSO I HAD CLOSERS SPELLED WRONG FOR LIKE A WHOLE MONTH WITHOUT REALIZING IM SUCH A BAD AUTHOR KMS, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst, Anxiety, Bands, Break Up, Childhood Trauma, Coffee Shops, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gangs, M/M, Meme, Mental Instability, Murder, Orphan Keith, Romance, Sexual Abuse, Underage Drinking, Unhealthy Relationships, WHY DID NOBODY TELL ME, a mess., buckle in for some emo times, deliberately ends without explaining everything, group chat every so often, keith is an asshole, kinda slice of life kinda not, kinky (ooooooo not really tho just my kind of kinky), pathological liar, shatt is real in this one, this is progressively getting worse bc im getting more emo, this went downhill really fast but its still kinda fluffy, time leap (like two months)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-08 20:51:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 71,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7772953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emotionaldun/pseuds/emotionaldun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*LANCE'S POV</p><p>Lance has never been the most cheerful person in the morning, with or without coffee. His friend, Pidge, and him usually get coffee on weekdays at the cafe Hunk works at, Black Gold. On a rather leisurely work day, a man Lance has never saw before enters the coffee shop, and a new interest brews for him. Who is this man who ties his hair back in a ponytail while walking in, listening to the world's literally most emo band? And how does Hunk know him?<br/>෴<br/>Behind the emo bands and memes, the boys have a lot in common, slowly unfolding their true selves, and chaos ensues after the fated-two meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ONE: A Part of Me

 

“And it went all ‘ _Pew, Pew!_ ’ They need to make better sound effects, I swear!”

 

“Mhmm….” I leaned back in the café’s chair, avoiding Pidge’s daily video game rants. This has become somewhat of a routine since going to college: Pidge and I go for breakfast at Black Gold, where our friend Hunk works to get money for his night classes. Pidge orders different drinks every day - and switches the orders each week, while I prefer to stick to a single order: A Hazelnut Frappuccino. My sweet tooth has always been more prominent than my taste for bitterness, which is always a point to be ridiculed at in our group chats.

 

While sipping on the gelid coffee, the customers began to vacate the shop, most of them in herds. There’s always a faint lingering feeling of loneliness once you are the only one in a shop beyond the workers, as if it was abandoned. Of course, there’s a polarized vibe once the store is crammed with boisterous customers, and that’s even more uncomfortable. A healthy balance between the two is when I am able to be at peace – especially when you can count how many walk in and out on one hand in about the span of an hour.

 

Despite how much I babble in the later-hours of the day, I tend to be groggy in the morning, even if I have coffee.

 

Pidge’s finger tapped the creases developing on my forehead, snapping all my focus back to reality. A worried look was on their face, while Hunk started to take his apron off, heading towards us. I gave them a huge grin, even if it was a bit forced. I hated making others worry, even if I enjoyed having attention. There’s a gigantic difference between positive and negative attention, and one always outweighs the other in terms of how long of an impression it makes.

 

“Ahhh, Hawaiian Hubby, your sweat is showing on your pits,” Pidge cackled like a witch, digging in their bag for deodorant. One of the few good points of Pidge – beyond being an epic meme lord – is how they always have what you need at the right times. The downside of that is the reason behind it: their constant anxiety makes them overthink so much to the point that they never risk anything.

 

Hunk was starting to apply deodorant in the middle of the shop, since it was only us two and a few early-bird workers, when the bell rang, signaling someone entered. My attention shifted from sweaty pits to the door, captivated by the sight.

 

An actual _dios_ was stepping inside, putting his luscious hair into a tiny ponytail. A slight hum was coming out from the earbuds this gorgeous person was wearing, and it clicked that they were playing My Chemical Romance.

 

An _emo_? In _my_ good Christian neighborhood?

 

On top of that, the baggy black shirt was complimented with a rolled-up flannel, skinny jeans that were almost the same shade, and original Doc Martens. It was the appearance of something a Hot Topic model would wear… yet, why was it appealing as fuck?

 

**“¡Qué chingados!”**

 

Blurting out loud, I instantly covered my mouth, letting it sink in that I got so excited, I cursed in my native tongue. It caught on immediately from Pidge, as their usual shithead, cocky smirk grew to the size of Jupiter. Hunk put his hand on my shoulder about four seconds later, finished with applying the deodorant.

 

Walking off from the embarrassing sight, the beautiful boy was waiting patiently to take his order, and I observed from afar (like the weirdo I am). Commentary about how I should ‘go up and get his number’ and that I’m ‘so bi that it would be obvious to a one-year-old’ was making a blush appear on my face, pondering about all the possible situations that could happen.

 

Before I had time to even worry, Hunk beckoned me over, preparing to make the coffee. My two feet moved before I even realized what was happening – hell, I was practically unconsciously doing so before I jumped back to real life. The man turned his head towards me, and I swear I heard my heart being shot with Cupid’s arrow. His heavenly dark-blue eyes were gentle, yet the bags under his eyes gave them some edge. Did he stay up late? How much sleep has he been getting? Has he slept at all these past few days?

 

Why am I thinking so much?

 

“Ah, um… I’m Lance.” I nervously raised my hand, probably grinning like I deserved to be placed in a circus show. The guy looked at it with an intense, squinted glare, as if he was confused on what to do. “W-what’s your name?”

 

The guy’s almost-closed eyes did not falter, but his lips quivered a bit before forming words. “Keith. You’re friends with Hunk?”

 

What?

 

“What?”

 

“Hunk, you know him?” Keith rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding my eyes. “We’re in the same classes at college.”

 

Oh. _Ooooh_. So this is Keith. THE Keith: Keith, the prodigy of Physics. No, the infamous _hotshot_ of Physics. Everyone has at least heard of him, but figured he was a legend. Hell, even I imagined it was just another story passed on from a drunken night, but it’s… real. And right in front of my face.

 

Hunk’s head emerged from underneath, blending the coffee order. “Uh, Lance, this is Keith, from my Physics class. Keith, this is Lance, one of my friends from back in middle school. You know, the one who accidentally blew up the fish tank in Chemistry- “

 

“Oi, that was once!”

 

“ _ONCE_ , you say?” His dramatic-mom voice came through, placing both his hands on his hips. A five-second stare down was held before I finally gave up.

 

Throwing my hands up in the air, I groaned in defeat. “Fine, it was twice, but what would you expect? Shiro placed the chemicals in a different order the first time, and the second time was your fault for bumping into me!”

 

“No, it was definitely your fault for not paying attention, both times, dickwad.” Pidge’s unwanted comment blared throughout the whole shop, Hunk choking from trying to hold back. Keith covered his mouth, staring at me with widened eyes.

 

And I was trying to look good, too.

 

“You blew up… a **fish tank** … twice.”

 

A tiny grin was peeking out through his fingers, and boy, did I want to experience the full thing. The temptation to tear his hands off from his mouth was killing me, but before I even acted upon the thought, Pidge placed their hand on my shoulder, winking. What are you doing-

 

“Hey, Keith, right? You should go to the concert with us tonight!”

 

“Pidge!” My voice cracked from shock, wanting them to stop. It’s embarrassing.

 

One part of me wants Keith to attend with us, the other wants to crawl in a hole and die. Having overly-extroverted friends really has a ton of deficits, after all. Keith’s smile fell, becoming a neutral expression – wow, his lips really do pout while speaking, just a tad bit.

 

Pulling out his remaining earbud, his eyes focused down on Pidge, who was significantly smaller than us. “A concert?”

 

“Yeah! Shiro and his future-wife, Allura, are performing tonight. It’s gonna be tighter than your jeans, I swear.” Keith’s eyebrows twitched at the last comment, while Hunk and I sneered.

 

“Pidge,” My laugh was rattling through my whole frame, “You really don’t know how to be completely sincere, do you?” Their teeth were gritted, nudging me over a bit to the side. “Well, yeah, our friends are in a band called _Ukiyo_ , and they are… eccentric.”

 

Keith’s face was subtly projecting his excitement to know more, so I continued on praising the fuck out of the rest of our squad. “Shiro does the drums, but also vocals on some tracks, while Allura is the lead singer. There’s someone on the keyboard - Coran - who has this really weird mustache. Kind of looks like the Lorax, in a fucked-up kind of way. Oh, and my younger sister, Mariana, is the bassist. Pidge’s brother Matt is the guitarist, and that makes up _Ukiyo_.”

 

Keith crooks his head to the side, clearly confused.

 

“What is _Ukiyo_?”

 

“Duuuuudeeeeeee,” Hunk groans, face-palming himself. “Ukiyo means ‘The floating world.’ Pretty much everyone in the band are highkey space nerds. Everyone in Lance’s family always had an interest in astronomy, so he came up with the name.”

 

Pidge elbowed my stomach, making a disgusting ‘oof’ sound come out. “Despite his heritage, Lance was always good at English. Probably because he moved here when he was two, and had to learn it along with Spanish.” They wiggled their eyebrows on the last sentence, hinting at something I did not understand.

 

“Here’s your coffee, by the way.” Hunk handled it with extreme care, like it was his precious child. What a male-mom, I swear. “But, yeah, it would be cool if you could come. You in?”

 

A tiny bit of the coffee dripped down from Keith’s lips, captivating me into a downwards spiral. _It shouldn’t be hot, it most definitely is embarrassing… but it’s so – **fuck**_. His thumb wiped it off, looking back at Hunk to reply.

 

Fuck, I’m already in too deep. This is the end.

 

“I’ll see how I’m feeling after classes. Is it at night?”

 

“Yeah, around nine at McSorley’s. It’ll be fucking hardcore; you best believe that you should wear looser jeans from how hard it’ll be.” Pidge answered for Hunk, with a toothy grin. With their note of how _hard_ it’s going to be, I had to support myself by placing my hand on the counter, coughing from humiliation. Pidge’s asshole side always gets the best of me, which is slightly the reason why we get along so well. Because….

 

“Pidge, you can’t even get hard, so let’s not go there.”

 

I **always** have a snarky refute on their points.

 

Getting slapped in the back of the head, I couldn’t contain my laughter any longer, and blasted into full-hyena sounds. All three of them looked at me like I was insane, but Hunk soon joined in, then Pidge. This was how our squad worked, always ending up flaming each other.

 

Keith’s tiny chuckle made all of us slowly stop, taking a deep breath to calm down.

 

“Well, I’ll see. Text me after you’re done today, yeah?” Keith held his phone out, pointing it towards Hunk, while placing the five-dollar bill on the countertop. “I’m heading out to finish studying for the exam today, best of luck.”

 

His Doc Martens made a bit of a squeak while turning, and he was gone in what felt like a nanosecond. My heart was pained that I didn’t get his number, but I’ll pester Hunk later when I wake up more.

 

Hunk’s loud gasp bounced off the walls a total of seven times, as he threw his bag on the counter.

 

“I totally forgot I had an exam today.”

 

“That’s what you get for watching _How To Get Away With Murder_ for a whole week, idiot.” Pidge helped search in his horrifyingly messy bag for his journal, loose-leaf papers flying out into the shop.

 

Exams bring out the worst in people, don’t they?

 ---------------------------

 

** Kinky Space Nuns**

**Pidgey CP 45, #DAD, Hunky Man, Allurduh, caBROn**

**caBROn** : daddy i need help

 **caBROn** : if i ssaid that i dont have toilet paper

 **caBROn** : theoretically

 **caBROn** : theres no toilet paper, what should i do

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : lance wtf you’ve been gone for like, seven minutes

 **Pidgey CP 45** : are you really locked in the bathroom with NO FUCKIGN toilet paper I CANT BELIEVE THIS

 **Pidgey CP 45** : hold on I have a meme for this

 

 **#DAD** : Lance, I’m going on with my gut on this one, but are you stuck in the bathroom with no toilet paper? And you’re on your phone?

 **#DAD** : You’ll get poop particles all over your phone

 

 **caBROn** : …. Sorta kinda maybe yes

 **caBROn** : what i do tho theres nobody else in here

 **caBROn:** omfG will i die from being lockd in here

 **caBROn** : someonEE BRING ME UFCKIN TOILET PAPPERR IM GONNA DIE

 

 **Allurduh** : im out of this one

 

 **#DAD** : SIGH

 **#DAD** : What stall are you in?

 

 **caBROn** : DAD AF GRACIAS

 **caBROn** : 2nd floor by Callahan’s class

 **caBROn** : VAMOS VAMOSSSSSSSSSS

 

 **#DAD** : Give me four minutes. I’m almost done with class. Please don’t die.

 

 **Allurduh** : you guys need to stop blowing up my phone, Coran is getting more annoyed with every text I get

 

 **caBROn** :  Pendejo

 **caBROn** : okay OkAY SHIR O PLS HURRY ITS GETTING HOT IN HERE

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : you know what you should be getting heated doing

 **Pidgey CP 45** : it rhymes w/ sheath

 **Pidgey CP 45** : lmao im fucking BRILLIANT

 

 **caBROn** : yyOU ARE SO FYCJING DEAD PIDGE II SWEAR

 **caBROn** : AFTER I GET OUT I’LL MAKE YOUO WISH YOU DIDNT SAY THATT

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : IM SO SCARED AHHHHHHH MOM SAVE ME

 

 **Allurduh** : stOP

 

 **#DAD** : alright, put your hands up. I got it, and I don’t want to smell your shit any longer, Lance.

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** :

 

\------------------------------

 

 

“You guys GOT to stop spamming each other while I’m taking an exam! What if I left my phone on vibrate? Or had my notifications on? I would have been dead meat. We all would have been dead meat. I would have gotten EXPELLED!”

 

Hunk’s nagging made all of us groan in agony, not truly feeling sorry for what happened. Although it may have been my fault (totally was), it was an important conversation. I could have suffocated in there, or died from dehydration.

 

Sighing, Hunk dug out his phone, and I was reminded of what I desired since six in the morning.

 

“Hunk… my brother, my man, my brother man, can I have Keith’s number?”

 

“Whatever, sure, get your contacts open.”

 

It took ten seconds after giving Lance his number to realize what he just did, and Pidge’s iconic grin made an appearance once more today. Allura was squinting at me for quite a while, as I was trying to compose a message.

 

Nothing was coming, absolutely nothing. My mind was as blank as the void.

 

Oh God, Pidge’s internet jokes are latching on to me.

 

“Lance.” Allura’s voice caught my attention, sounding interested yet confused.

 

“Yes, beautiful mom?”

 

“One, stop calling me that.”

 

“Make me-“

 

“Two, what’s got you so excited that you can’t even text? You’ve been staring at your phone for seven minutes straight.”

 

Blinking five times in a row, it took a few looks at the time on my phone to realize she was correct: seven minutes, I was goofily deciding what to send. Everyone was squinting with the same Allura-judging eyes, automatically intrigued with the conversation we were having.

 

Shiro put his hand to his chin, gazing at the phone on top of Pidge’s notebook. “Does this have something to do with that comment about sheath?”

 

Fucking fuck. How does he catch on like THAT, in an instant? It’s scary. Useful, but scary.

 

Hunk and Pidge exchanged a prolonged cheeky look at one another, while Shiro was swiping through the chat again. After the poop accident, nothing else was brought up, beyond Hunk yelling at us a billion times about messaging one another in a ‘critical time’ and a ‘crisis.’ Clapping my hands, I directed the conversation away from my love life – **not** my love life.

 

“So, Allura, is this the time you will finally confess to Shiro mid-song?”

 

Shiro and Allura simultaneously slammed their hands onto the table, but Shiro’s bionic arm had tremendously more power to it than the other one.

 

“ **She’s** /I’m not confessing!”

 

The three of us outsiders obnoxiously laughed, getting ourselves kicked out of the library (again). Allura’s headlock was making it tough to breathe, but I still let out quite a few breathy snickers towards the wannabe-couple.

 

Hunk’s phone went off, and he immediately handed the phone over to me.

 

“Huh?”

 

“Just read it.”

 

Perplexed, I took the phone from him, looking at the message he received.

 

 **KEITH KOGANE** : I think I’m going to go, where should we meet up? Or just find each other at the concert? :) 

 

That smile packed a damn mighty punch, considering he never really showed it in the one-experience they had with each other. Was I meant to just read it, or did Hunk want me to respond? Or was this supposed to be an icebreaker so I could text him on my own? God, Hunk made this even more difficult.

 

“For fucks sake, you are so gay. Respond, asswipe.”

 

“Whose ass do you want to wipe, Pidge, huh?” I got all up close into their face, making ugly facial expressions to show how irritated it made me.

 

Shiro peered over my shoulder, reading the message. Allura soon followed him, then Pidge, and lastly Hunk, whose phone it was. All four of them stared at me with wide eyes, and a cheesy beam. _Who’s the one having dirty thoughts now, huh_?

 

“Can I have my own space?” I asked.

 

And I shouldn’t have.

 

Pidge shoved their phone in my face, revealing a photo of the Milky Way.

 

“For FUCKS SAKE!”


	2. TWO: Tiny Vessels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance's past is subtly touched upon, he lowkey flirts while talking about Stranger Things, and the #squad sets up an opportunity for them to "bond"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please correct me if I make any mistakes with Korean throughout this story!!! I'm not fluent in it, so it would help out. 
> 
> This chapter (even though theres like, 76k different things happening) is hugely based on Elder Brother's song "Heavy Head" & Death Cab For Cutie's cover of "Love Song." Just wanted to help you feel like utter TRASH lmao who needs stable emotions anymore ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

“I’m just saying… but _Stranger Things_ would have been a fucking banging-ass show if Barb was in every episode,” Pidge’s hands were flying everywhere, engrossing all of us into the aggressive conversation.

 

“It would be so wrong if she was still in it after Steve’s stupid party! That means a c- “

 

Hunk cut me off, covering my mouth. “Excuse you, Allura has yet to watch it. There’s a specific reason for that, though.”

 

The three of our annoying asses squinted over at Shiro, shooting figurative-lasers into him. Hastily groaning in defeat, he gave us that deadly ‘You better stop before I _make_ you stop’ mom look, earning a terrified squeak coming from Pidge. It actually sent shivers down both Hunk  & my backs.

 

Coran was playing with his repulsive mustache, as if he was deep in his thoughts (if he even had decent ones). “What was on the setlist again?”

 

“How could you forget?!” Shiro and Allura replied again in harmony, equally as agitated as one another. Even though Coran was phenomenal on the keyboard, he was absolute trash in everything else. Every single thing he does ends up in a mess somehow: for instance, when he was getting baking lessons from Hunk, he ended up turning what-should-have-been delicious brownies into greenies… we never discussed what he did wrong while cooking. Hunk was having a mental breakdown about how he ‘failed’ Gordon Ramsey.

 

The setlist tonight was kept a secret from me, but I managed to squeeze out some information from Mariana on the phone. A few classics from the 80s and 90s, tacky pop songs gone hardcore, and she hounded into my head that she could not admit the rest of it. Which hurt my feelings, I even attempted fake crying on Facetime and everything.

 

Surprises are marvelous, but being left out from the truth is extremely irritating at the same time. I guess I’m just sour when things are hidden from me, but who wouldn’t be?

 

McSorley’s was getting closer to our vicinity, along with the catchy beat of “Salt” from Bad Suns blasting from the Urban Outfitters across the street. As much as I was more of a hip hop and classics person, I could get down to some alternative songs. Very few.

 

Unlike Pidge, who **strictly** has bands like _Death Cab for Cutie_ or _Mother Mother_ on their iTunes.

 

Mariana and my younger brother, Finn, were waiting by the curb, waving for us to join them once they saw us. Hunk darted as fast as he could, immediately hitting it off with Finn. Those two were close before I even met Hunk, considering they share a multitude of similar interests (despite having opposite personalities). Mariana, however, always figured Hunk was too much of a softy for her, and went for boys like our older brother, Xavier. The type who could wake up on Sunday and go to church with their abuelos, but have orgies the night before.

 

However, Xavier was the proclaimed ‘family hoe’ of the Sanchez kids, but always had the most respect for others. As the middle child, I always had some envy towards him, until I barged in on one of his _romantic_ escapades at age twelve.

 

Never been the same since. Never.

 

“Hey, **puto** , the apple of your eye is coming up the street.” Pidge’s sharp jab to the stomach almost made me puke out my intestines, as I saw a mullet coming into view.

 

Keith showed up on time. Keith showed up. Keith.

 

After a dozen of scenarios came into my head, his fingerless-gloved hand was swaying back and forth, speeding up his pace a bit to meet us. A bit of a blush was spreading across my cheeks, and in an attempt to flush it out, I tightened my fists as hard as I could. Please calm down, please, for the love of Jesus Christ, calm the fuck down.

 

“Lance, right? Are you okay?” Keith’s words flung around my consciousness for what felt like days.

 

“H-huh?”

 

His slender, long index finger pointed at my clenched fists, and then trailed its way up to my face. “Your fists are more white than a sheet of paper.”

 

 _Whap_.

 

Humiliation smacked myself free from my roaming thoughts, as I let them go as soon as he stopped talking. _You have one job, Lance, one job. Could you stop being so awkward? Look, you made the poor hot guy worried for you_.

Stuttering before forming the right sentence, his focus shifted to the building. “Ah, kind of decrepit, right? But I promise, the inside is more modernized than our school. By a fuckton.”  _Fuckton_? Who **are** you, _Pidge_?

 

Keith’s bambi-eyes turned back in a hurry towards me, the start of a toothless-half smile growing on his plump lips. _Save me_.

 

“I’ll trust you on your words, but if it isn’t as pleasant as you’re making it out to be, I’ll be a bit let down.”

 

Way to guilt trip me.

 

Shiro, Allura, and Mariana rushed into the venue, Coran following after making Hunk promise to teach him to cook again. The lifeless eyes of Hunk’s after the exchange were enough to be branded in my mind forever. Pidge even took a Snapchat of it to celebrate his misery.

 

“Oh, right. Keith, have you watched Stranger Things yet?” Pidge’s eyes twinkled like the night sky, making Keith lean his head back from how much she was almost _radiating happiness_.

 

“Uh…” Nervously rubbing his finger under his nose, the most shocking words of the whole week followed. “What is _Stranger Things_?”

 

Half in my consciousness, I clapped my hands, keeping the straightest face possible. “ **BOI**.” Hunk joined in on the pose. “It’s the best show that came out of this summer! How could you not have even heard of it – that’s it, fuck it, we’re watching it together. I’m not taking no for an answer.” Not allowing time for Keith to protest, I bat my eyes dramatically, simpering like the Cheshire Cat. “It’s a date, _Billy Ray Cyrus-hair_.”

 

A surprised countenance was on Keith’s face, since I somehow was capable of landing a decent one-liner on him. The two dimwits besides us were pestering one another about the comparison, but what came next was even more enthralling.

 

Coming close to my ear, Keith whispered:

“Only if you _make me_ , 꽃미남 (Pretty Boy).”

 

Now, I have had my fair share of binge-watching Korean dramas here and there, but nothing could have ever prepared me for expecting _that_. One of the few phrases I caught onto of Korean, too, being tossed around after a flirtatious insult. From the man I had an attraction towards. From the man who appeared to be more emo than Pete Wentz during the Myspace Era.

 

But blatantly being hit on? Even though it most likely was a platonic remark, it made my heart salsa dance upside down. How astonishing… how _stimulating_.

 

“Hate to break up the gay showdown happening right now, but Finn is still here, and I have to go help sort out the equipment. Let’s go, fuckboys.”

 

Once again, Pidge had to soil another advancement for me. Such reasonable betrayal.

 

\------

 

“And as we wind on down the road, our shadows taller than our soul. 

There walks a lady we all know, who shines white light and wants to show, how everything still turns to gold.”

 

Shiro and Allura’s harmonizing voices were making the whole crowd cheer, Pidge air-guitaring fiercely along with the beat. Matt and Mariana were shredding the notes, bouncing off the walls of the bar and vibrating the floor tremendously. Coran was dancing along with Hunk in the corner, since there was no keyboarding to do yet. Keith and I were drinking on the edge of the stage, tapping my feet along to the beat. _Led Zeppelin_ was always played at their gigs, no matter what genre they were shooting for. Nonetheless, it was my favorite song recorded by them, too.

 

Something seemed a bit off, but no answer was coming to mind about why it did. After the last riff of the song, Mariana took out the flamenco guitar she received from abuelita for her sixteenth birthday, and began to play the instrumentals to “Besame Mucho.”

 

Allura held on tight to the microphone, pivoting her head in the direction I was in. “Tonight’s a very special night, not only to us for having the experience of performing here, but to our friend, and brother, Lance Sanchez.” Confetti erupted from the stage, as Pidge and Hunk attacked me in an air-tight hug. “Feliz Cumpleaños, Lance.” The whole crowd repeated the birthday wishes, but I was puzzled by why they were celebrating it now - it’s still three days away.

 

“So, get your ass on up here, boy! We need you to be the lead vocals for this one!” Mariana strung the guitar while winking at me, getting the crowd all revved up for the next song to come on. Pidge and Hunk escorted me up by the extra microphone, Allura scooting over to the right to make room.

 

Giving everyone questioning looks, I got no response, but a thumbs up from Keith. Please tell me he had no idea what was going on, either, because I look like some type of special idiot right now.

 

The keyboard was playing the beginning seconds of _Daddy Yankee’s_ song “Limbo,” and a huge smirk was on my face, as I turned back to Mariana. She knew this was one of my favorite Spanish songs to dance to while cleaning, showering, eating… and Shiro would be backing me up. THAT’S why Allura was learning how to play the drums.

 

“Masivo!” Shiro yelled, as I scoffed a bit. I couldn’t believe this, but damn, I never pass up the opportunity to listen to _Daddy Yankee_.

 

“Vamos cogele, ritmo cintura rodillas al piso baja y pasa el limbo.” I leaned into the microphone, and repeated the lyrics again. Coran, for once, you are pulling through with your keyboarding skills. Blessed as hell.

Keith and my eyes locked as I was searching in the crowd for him, and I decided to be a little coy by blowing him a kiss. Pidge was squealing next to him, posing their puckered lips differently each second. Keith just rolled his eyes, but I couldn’t make something out: was it the lights, or was he actually flustered by that? Just imagining it, I was getting all the way pumped up for the song.

 

The best early-birthday gift yet.

 

\--

“ _I'm the one with the ghosts in my bed,_

 _but they only come alive at night_.”

Hunk nearly tackled me to the floor, praising me way too much than usual for the performance. Pidge also jumped into my arms, making my ears go numb with their deafening screeches of enjoyment. Since they came over here, Keith ended up watching the spectacle, crossing his arms.

 

“You know, you can come and embrace me too, if you wanted to.” The alcohol was on the verge of kicking in, making my nerves settle down to the point where I wasn’t sure if I was confident, or it was a false reality.

 

Keith held out a palm in rejection, covering his face with the other one. “As much as I’d love to be more weight to carry, I’ll pass.”

 

“You sure, baby boo?”

 

“Baby boo?”

 

“What, you don’t like it? Babycakes, honey buns, snuggluffagus?”

 

“I’m pretty sure that you aren’t even speaking English right now.”

 

“Yo no hablo Inglés.”

 

Grunting irritably, Keith dug out a few mints from his pocket, and dropping them down into my free hand.

 

“Try to sober up at the moment with these, I’m going to get you some water. Can you at least do that?”

 

Pouting, I nodded in agreement, but I believed I wasn’t the one who needed the water. **COUGH** Pidge was pretending to eat my head **COUGH**.

 

The band was playing a jumbled list of songs of various genres, and I couldn’t tell one song apart from the next after hearing the combination of iconic 90s hits. Was there even music playing anymore, or could I finally no longer hear thanks to Pidge? Did Hunk manage to knock over and spill his drink over the wires when I lost my balance?

 

Shit, maybe I really was getting wasted. My vision was like a real-life version of a _Skrillex_ music video.

 

Somebody’s fingers were brushing past my lips, opening up my mouth. A hazy image of Keith’s face was showing between my almost-closed eyes, along with his hand tipping up my chin. 

 

A bit of water splashed down, as he murmured a few profanities I couldn’t care to process. “Hang in there, you’re losing your footing way too easy for only a few shots.” What went down, had to come up, and it was not the usual ‘drunken-vomit’ feeling. Even in a state of total delusions and blurry vision, my body could figure out something was not right.

 

Did I eat something bad?

 

“Fuck, Lance.”

 

A splatter of puke landed on the bar’s floor, and I’m not sure if I stepped in it or not. As I was leaning down to get more out, an arm came underneath me and swooped me up, onto their shoulders. _Cinnamon_ …

 

“Smells like cinnamon… heh…”

Whoever was transporting me from one spot to another had the most angelic scent of all time, complimented by hair that tickled the tip of my nose whenever they switched the leading foot.

 

 _And a nice ass_.

 

Kicking the men’s bathroom door wide open with their boot, the person continued making a hurried pace to the roomiest stall. The familiar squeak of the tiles got the bouncing-ringing sound out of my eardrums, until the stall was pried open. “Okay, up we go!” _Keith_?

 

A huge flood of vomit was flying its way up my throat, and before I had the time to accept what was happening, my head was peering over the toilet, and a flood of dull yellow chunks was falling down. _Yellow_ ….

 

“Lance, are you alright?” A hand was rubbing circles into my back, releasing the tension in my shoulders. What felt like hours later, my breathing was ragged from violently getting sick, and I still was not capable of clearly perceiving my surroundings.

 

“Keith?” My hands reached out, gripping onto his jumpy shoulders. The grasp I had on him was shaky, trying to stabilize my balance and failing entirely. This was the worst intoxicated state I had since tenth grade, and it was catching on that this wasn’t a normal reaction. “I can’t… see,” the bathroom’s awfully bright lights that tended to be blinding were getting fuzzy, switching between black and white every second.

 

The ricocheting hum returned, before everything faded out to nothingness.

 

\--

“What do you mean?”

 

“ _I’m pretty sure somebody slipped something in our drinks, or at least he was the unlucky one._ ”

 

“That bar usually never has problems like this…”

 

My eyelids were laden, while every muscle in my body throbbed in complete, utter agony. _What the hell happened_? Blinking repeatedly, I was trying to prop myself up on the unknown couch, making numerous squeaking sounds in the process. Everyone’s focus shifted in my general direction, but even though I rubbed my eyes raw, my eyesight was still poor. A dip was felt throughout the couch, and I could sense it was Hunk.

 

Gently placing a cup of coffee in front of me, the blurry-version of him attempted conversing with my half-aware state. “Good morning, Lance. How are you feeling? Do you need anything? We’re at Shiro’s apartment, so just ask.” The thing about Hunk’s delightful voice was the fact that you could make out if he was smiling or not while talking. It made me felt guilty, it was _my_ fault for drinking without recalling the consequences that come with it.

 

Hastily shaking my head, I grabbed the mug from his hands, hands trembling to keep it from spilling over.

 

“Lance, do you feel the same way you did in tenth grade? We need to talk about it- “

 

“Please, do _not_ bring up that night…” My voice was raspy and cracking, as if I smoked for majority of my life. Hunk’s distraught expression directed my gaze down to my coffee, avoiding the topic as much as I could. There was a plethora of events in the past that I would remember for the rest of my life, but _that night_ is one I desired strongly to forget.

 

The past can be thought of like a book of choices, and the aftermath of them. There will be surprising ones, expected ones, and ones out of the person’s control. What happens in life is never always in the person’s favor, and situations where they could not predict what would happen have a tendency to stick around for an interminable amount of time. This is when the person’s lingering wounds of negative consequences begin to overpower the abundance of precious, sanguine memories they held onto, and could make or break them.

 

For me, I try to repress it as far down as I can. Some encounters should be stranded, for the safety of the person’s sanity, and the people surrounding them. Restraining a disaster for others takes priority against risking an eruption of problems stemming from letting go of the truth.

 

Shiro’s bionic arm placed a fuzzy blanket on my shoulders, wrapping it around until I resembled an aqua burrito. _It’s better not to worry them, you can contain it_.

 

“So, you speak Spanish?”

 

Keith was sitting on one of the kitchen stools, leaning over to speak with me.

 

“Yeah- “

 

“I guess you didn’t believe me, huh?” Pidge stepped in, their expression torn between worried and cocky. “Lance tried to teach all of us Spanish, but the only ones that really caught on were Shiro and Hunk.” Keith steadily nodded along, but Pidge’s somewhat-drunken speech continued. “He also knows some French from my brother and I, Japanese, Korean, and a tad bit of Russian. It’s scary. He looks like a complete dimwit, yes, but has an IQ of 145.”

 

“Pidge you’re embarrassing him.” Allura came behind the couch, cradling my head in her arms. “Look, he’s going to explode from all this praise in front of his boyfriend.”

 

I almost spat out a mouthful of coffee, perturbed and quite embarrassed that she admitted my ever-developing crush on Keith out loud. Shiro nudged her a bit, while Hunk and Pidge sent each other excited finger-guns and rambunctious winks. _Did I ever want to die this much_? While I was wallowing in misery, Keith’s soft half-smile was in my vision. I lifted my head to make eye contact, insanely captivated by the effortless beauty he was radiating. Nobody should look that attractive after helping someone puke from downing shots.

 

“So, you knew what I was saying earlier today?” A mini-patch of pink was flaring on his cheeks, a hand covering his mouth. Wait, is he embarrassed? _Keith Kogane? The Physics Prodigy_? My nod seemed to turn on a switch in him, as he averted his gaze to the left, where a soft buzz was coming from _Twin Peaks_ playing on the TV.

 

Something about the room felt empty, like a hole suddenly appeared, separating us all. The reason behind it was not comprehensible. Maybe it was how Hunk was nervously picking at his fingernails, or that Pidge was abnormally quiet. It could be that Keith’s aloofness made them uncomfortable. Or Shiro’s steady pacing around the room.

 

Was it my fault? Did I accidentally open a wound without meaning to? I didn’t like this; it’s supposed to be so loud that their voices would pierce my ears.

 

Apprehensively, I let out a chuckle, trying to ease out the edge everyone appeared to be on. “Sorry that I got sick, I should learn to handle my alcohol better, huh?” Keith’s head whipped in my direction, obviously projecting that he had something to say. Something that oozed in rage. Before anyone had the chance to give a remark, I slapped my hands on my thighs and stood up. “Who wants to play Mario Kart? I got a fire brewing inside and I need to kick some ass.”

 

Even though everyone’s body language was reluctant, the first one to speak up was Allura. “You always lose because you pick the worst cars.”

 

“That’s not true!”

 

“She’s so right. Hate to break it to you, Lance, but you either get twelfth or seventh place. Even NPCs beat you!” Pidge’s typical giggle was slowly growing back to normal, purposely dragging it along.

 

Shiro switched to channel 2, while the rest of us set up the wires and controllers. Hunk and Keith joined in, deciding to switch back-and-forth between each round. We only had five controllers, but it somehow ended up working quite well between them.

 

Allura was Player 1, so she was fiddling between the choices, until selecting Rainbow Road for the first round.

 

Pidge slammed the controller on the ground, violently twitching their eyebrows. _Here we go_ … “Are you fucking kidding me?!” It was the least favorite of the whole group, since half of them are aggressive players, and it would result in all of us shoving each other off the road. Then ourselves.

 

“Just because you don’t know how to control your driving doesn’t mean you have the right to complain,” Keith’s snarky response made shivers travel completely down my spine, triggering my frenzied imaginations.

 

 _Would he be the type to dominate, or is he all bark and no bite?_ I wanted to know more, I _needed_ to know.

 

The intensity behind the game’s beeping made me shove my fantasies to the back of my head, and I tried to focus on my character, King Boo. We better fucking win, or this will be all for shit. And I really don’t want to hear Pidge’s agitating bragging again. Or ever.

 

It started, but Allura stalled her bike in the first two seconds, and Shiro knocked Pidge down, resulting in a wrathful, prolonged string of profanities in both English and French. The only ones still driving, besides the NPCs, was Keith and I. He was in first place, and I was trailing extremely close behind him.

 

“Fuckwad, fall over!”

 

“Did you just call me fuckwad?”

 

“What are you going to do about it, Billy?”

 

Keith’s car suddenly halted, making my tail-riding backfire by spiraling off the edge.

 

“Oh, **bring** it, pendejo.”

 

“너 하나도 겁 안나 (You Don’t Scare Me)!”

 

The entirety of the three rounds of the hellish arena were just Keith and I being way too brash, using unethical tactics to try and get first. He would lean on me, I would bite his hand, pushing each other into the edge, switching the leading car so the other would get hit with the blue shell… it was as if the others were not involved at all. Around the last fifteen seconds, Keith was leading by a huge margin, since I glided on the three bananas he sneakily placed.

 

However, Pidge’s irritating way of playing would pull through in the end, sending yet another blue shell to detonate first place. And, boy, did it feel like I just won the Olympics.

 

First place, for the first time in ages.

 

Lowering his head, Keith finished behind Shiro in fifth place. Yes, Pidge, _yes_. “Fucking hell.”

 

“How does it feel to be a loser, Keith? Woo!” Victory dancing, Allura was applauding, and Pidge was mocking my dance by taunting ‘Shakira Shakira’ in my ears. Everyone seemed back to a relaxed state of mind, snickering in a crazed fashion. If I didn’t notice Hunk subtly directing my attention to Keith by pointing, I would never have believed what was happening.

 

Clouded-blue eyes, focused merely on my hips. _Mine_. And they were not budging, or blinking at all. If Keith was in a trance with just that, there would be much more in store. If he really _was_ in one. I shouldn’t give myself much credit, though – I’ve only known him for a day, would he really act in such an enticing way on purpose?

 

Solely, the dangerous thoughts roaming through my mind were enough to make all the colors in the room transform into more lurid ones. If it was not for Hunk’s yelp, I would have found myself in an intense, lustful stare-down with the object of my developing affections.

 

The standard iPhone ringtone was blaring out, as Hunk’s sweaty hands kept dropping his phone in an attempt to turn it off. “I forgot, I have to go off to the island tomorrow to visit our cousins!”

 

“Wait, you’re leaving tomorrow? I can’t take care of the animals alone!” My voice was hoarse, obviously showing my shock. Since Hunk and I shared bonds similar to a family, we rented an apartment together in the city to efficiently get to college. It has its up and downs, but one of them is that once one of us leaves, his three cats and my bunny was left for a single person to tend to. And with exams coming up for Engineering students, my weekend was going to be occupied. Even my birthday plans had to be cancelled for the safety of passing, because God knows I am a horrendous test-taker.

 

Hunk sighs, giving his deadly puppy dog expression. “Heh, joke’s on you, I turn off my heart during exam season,” clearly dodging the look, I slyly pretended to be intrigued by the mundane, artless walls of the living room. “You should have warned me in advance, I have too much on my plate to handle them single-handedly this time.”

 

Searching around the room, everyone was ogling at Keith, like they were performing some convincing telepathic conversation with him.

 

“I think Keith should help out.” Allura blurted.

 

Pidge supported themselves up on my shoulder by standing on their tiptoes, a wicked, audacious beam sending figurative daggers down my throat. “I agree. It would be a **male bonding experience**. Just you two. Boys. Alone. With pets.”

 

“I d-don’t think Keith would want that!” Trying to ward off the responsibility from his shoulders, I was rapidly waving my hands while yelling.

 

Allura was acting all giddy next to Keith, a cheeky tone coming from her giggle. “Okay, raise your hand if you think Keith should go- “

 

“It wouldn’t be a problem, I’ll help Lance watch after your pets, Hunk.”

 

_Bang Bang, my baby shot me down._

 

\---

 

** KINKY SPACE NUNS **

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:**  (~˘▾˘)~ Laaanceeeee

 **Pidgey CP 45:** Hey Laaaaaanceeeeeeeee ~(˘▾˘~)

 

 **caBROn:** im trying to sleeP WHAT YOU WNANT

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:**  

 

 

 **Hunky Man:** omg Pidge no

 

 **#DAD:** uh-oh

 

 **caBROn:** pidge i got a knife and a belt which one do you prefer

 **caBROn:** becAUSE YOU ARE SO DEAD I S2G IM GONNA KMS 

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** OHOHO IM TERRIFIED LMAO FITE ME

 

 **caBROn:** UGGHHHHHH

 

 **Hunky Man:** @lance please chill i'm trying to sleep and i don't need to hear your dramatic grunts of rage

 

 **Allurduh:** eheheh save those for when it's just keith and you 

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** OH SHIT X3

 

 **#DAD:** ALLURA

 

 **Hunky Man:** LOLOLOLOLOL YOU KNOW ITS FUCKED UP WHEN ALLURA MAKES PERVY COMMENTS BYEEEEE

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** MOM AFFFF ILY 

 

 **caBROn:** leT EM LIVE EIN PEACCE

 

 **#DAD:** you all need help 

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** dad dont be like thata you know lance is just pulling our balls

 **Pidgey CP 45:** psht more like keith's js jsssssss

 

 **Allurduh:**  (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞ 

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:**  ☜(ﾟヮﾟ☜)

 

 **caBROn:** maybE I'LL JUST LEAK OUT ALL OF MY DIRTY THOUGHTS EHRE HUHU HOW WOULD YOU LLIKE THAT YOU RL FUJOSHIS 

 

 **Hunky Man:** please dont

 

 **#DAD:** Lance it's 2:47 AM, shouldn't you be sleeping or studying, instead of bringing out the dark sides of Pidge  & Allura? 

 

 **caBROn:** wHY IS IT MY FAUKTL I WAS SLEEPING UNTIL PIDGE STARTED BEBBNG ANNOYING

 **caBROn:** WHATEVER MAN YOU ALL NEED TO LEAVE GOODNIGHT

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** waITTT DONT LEAVE TELL THE JUICY DEETS

 

 **Hunky Man:** he's dead asleep man now i'll be up hearing his snores all night sigh

 

**Allurduh:**

 

 

 

* * *

 


	3. THREE: The Less I Know, The Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hunk leaves Lance & Keith alone, accidents happen, [prolonged emo moment], mariana is an ice cold bad bitch ilh, and the group chat ends again nice nice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk i ended up writing this as an emo mess but ENJOY (suffer) [feelings suck]
> 
> why do i always add a meme at the end

Continuous sounds of zipping rang through my ears, as I was waiting for Hunk to leave. The usual mornings where I’m home alone have a tendency to go like this: sleep a few more hours, watch literally any show for hours (or binge it whole), eat junk food, and scroll on the internet until I pass out. When I have the rare opportunity to be by myself with no responsibilities, I laze around and avoid any contact with anyone, unless it’s dire. So, when Hunk was beginning to pack up his Scion xB, the welcoming feeling of having the place to myself was overwhelmingly setting in.

 

A restless sigh was dragged on from Hunk, as he repeatedly banged his head on the front-door frame, locking eyes with me after the fifth one. “Are you sure you’ll be okay, Lance?”

 

“Pssht, _me_?” Dramatically raising my arms up, I flashed my cheesy grin one last time, in an attempt to make his nerves settle down. “I’m dank as fuck right now, man, no need to worry. Go have fun seeing everyone, yeah?”

 

Hunk’s unsettled expression always reminded me of how a betrayed puppy looks like, and it’s extremely difficult to deceive someone who looks like a hurt animal. _Mi corazon_ … “Please don’t destroy the house while I’m gone. If I come back to see another dip in the couch, I’ll know **who** to blame.” An intense stare-down took place after his comment, and as much as it felt like those histrionic zoom-in scenes from _Parks and Recreation_ , it wasn’t with ill-will. I appreciated that Hunk cared for me, but I didn’t want to make him agonize about my well-being. His heart’s too pure, and it stings when his genuine concern is directed towards you.

 

“Alright, Hunky Man, should I escort you to your car?”

 

“As much as I’d love to be the heroine, save that for Keith.” A cheeky snicker was cheering me up a bit from the night before, although I couldn’t dodge the embarrassment it gave me. “Don’t burn the house down while cooking, please don’t feed the cats the rabbit food instead, don’t keep the water running for too long! Make sure you don’t scratch any video games this time, or accidentally drink curdled milk. Brush your teeth with your own toothpaste, and do not spam in the group chat while I’m driving, either. An accident will be a terrible- “

 

“ **GOODBYE** , Hunk!”

 

Slamming the door in his face, I heaved for a few seconds, an adrenaline rush dispersing across my brain. You know it’s a brilliant day when you can just sense the endorphins racing.

 

“I’ll call you for your birthday, Lance! Save the cake for-”

 

“HUNK, LEAVE ALREADY.”

 

\--

 

“I FUCKING KNEW IT, THAT BITCH REBECCA!” Violently banging my coffee mug on the floor, I wished to do nothing more than throw myself into the show and kill her. “Annalise, you are TOO GOOD for these people! And Wes, you need to open your FUCKING EYES and realize what she is DOING.”

 

My rage was cut off short, my ringtone overpowering _How to Get Away with Murder’s_ end-credits. Skittering across the floor, I aimed to get my phone, but the butter from eating popcorn kept making my phone slip out from my hands. Probably twenty centuries later, I managed to get a decent grasp on the fucker, and opened my notification.

 

 **KEITH:** Are you up yet? Hunk text-ranted for me to head over soon.

Is it possible to blush from a simple text message? Because I was getting pretty damn heated right now, imagining what he was doing while typing.

 

 **ME:** I aam up I s2g

 **ME:** dont worry bout hunky man hes just a bundle of worrying lmao

 **ME:** u dont actualy have to come over

 

 _Fuck_ , I actually typed the complete opposite of what I wanted. There’s nothing more invigorating to me right now than picturing Keith in my apartment. It doesn’t even matter what he’ll be doing, it’s just rousing to think that he and I would be sharing the same breathing space. Being in the same room was the first boundary to step, and I absolutely just messed that up.

 

 **KEITH** just now

_The apartment’s on Minetta Street, right? Be there in fifteen. Please don’t kick the door in my face.   :)_

The first feeling that flooded through me was childish anticipation, ecstatic that he self-asserted himself before I even responded with a fourth text.

 

The second feeling was the shocking epiphany that I reek of butter, haven’t brushed my teeth yet, and was still wearing my Pikachu onesie. Practically beating Usain Bolt at running, I dashed straight to my room, searching for clothes that were ‘casual yet not lazy but not too dressy, just enough to please the eyes.’ About half-a-minute later of scavenging, I settled on my dearest mocha-colored knitted sweater that was so hipster it would make Pidge cringe, and the once-black-but-now-shadow-gray skinny jeans. They once made my legs look like twigs, but after gaining a smidge of muscle from traveling across the city by foot, I could easily be a **macho** man.

Step two: vigorously brush my teeth until they reflect every light in the room. There wasn’t even the slightest taste of coffee in my mouth after I was done, but the butter on my fingertips was posing the worst problem. I lathered my hands in body soap, and there was still a remnant smell of it staying on my hands. It irked me to no end, but eventually, the excessive amount of fragrant soaps and intense scrubbing paid off.

 

The only thing left was my hair-

 

 _Knock, knock_.

 

“Uh-um, coming!!!” My squeal sounded like a perfect imitation of a pig, barely hiding my excitement for spending time with Keith. Hiding the evidence of the butter-incident, I sped-walked over to the door, a miniscule anxiety attack coming along. Please, not today _. Not today_. “Welcome to mi casa, Keith.” Cooing on his name, I sensed it would be more of a cheeky kind of day, and decided to follow through with the usual antics. “Come on in.”

 

Wiping his wholly-black Vans on the rug that had the ironic words ‘this house runs on coffee and Jesus’ without a comment, he entered the apartment, giving it a check-out before even breathing out a letter. Awfully silent. Was it still too messy? I mean, I understand that it’s not as pristine as a minimalist house, but it wasn’t vile: without the tacky decorations and my studying material all over the counter, it could be a decent place fit for a millionaire. Decent.

 

Two of our cats, Kuro and Zelda, were thoroughly examining Keith, as if it was somebody going through airport security. Zelda, the mellow child, easily gave up, and rubbed against his legs a total of seven times. Although the exchange was lovely, I couldn’t focus on anything other than Keith’s face. His endearing eyes were sparkling after the cats greeted him, as if he was yearning to pick them up.

 

Testing out the waters, I gradually bent down, trying not to get Kuro and Zelda all worked up, and picked both up into my arms.

 

“Keith, you know… they won’t bite. Well, at least not hard.” _Another one_.

 

His hands lovingly reached out, clearly desiring to hold the cute as hell cats, otherwise known as unhuman babies. “C-can I?”

 

“Just take Zelda for now, the one who rubbed up against you. She’s probably grown attached to you already.” Giggling a bit, I extended my right arm in his direction, signaling for him to take Zelda.

 

And I swear, I might as well have witnessed Jesus in the flesh that moment. The gorgeous emo man, who’s mullet was tied back once again, was caressing my baby girl with such adoration, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. I wanted to be Zelda. I also wanted to tear off his horrendous worn-out _A Day To Remember_ shirt and his snug jeans.

 

Was his fashion choices or Kuro sneezing that broke me free from my trance?

 

“ **Bless you**.”

 

Keith and I instantly stared at each other, equally surprised that we simultaneously blessed a cat for sneezing. Trying to refrain from laughing didn’t help, as I blurted out in the piercing-hyena chuckles again, getting a chain reaction from Keith. Half of my mind was forming a million memories per second, while the other portion kept creating fantasies of the two of us.

 

 _Just from a cat sneezing, we would break out in hysterics. Is this a sign? Maybe we’re soulmates, destined from the start to fall in love. Do I love him, or is this just a passing whim_?

 

“Oh, Lance, I brought some ice cream with me. I’m not really big on cupcakes, or cake in general, but hopefully this will do for your birthday?”

 

I nearly attacked him, squeezing him in a firm embrace. “I could fucking kiss you right now, I’m so grateful.” Blurting my exact thoughts out loud, the onset of a blush was threatening my calm demeanor, but I stood my ground. “Only if you’d like that.” And I went and bopped the tip of his nose, ruining the moment yet again.

 

“Lance…” God, that breathy whisper was sensual when it shouldn’t have been. “The-the ice cream’s going to melt.”

 

“Aaaaahhhhh, mi postre!” Greedily snatching the shopping bag from the floor, I hurried to the freezer, placing the two buckets right on top of the bacon. Not only were they gallon-sizes, the two flavors were my all-time favorites: Breyers brand of Samoas and Salted Caramel. “Keith, I’m going to cry. These are my favorites.”

 

“Really? They both are my top-two, also.”

 

Shifting my head to his direction, I was ready to suggest an outrageous, but reasonable proposal to get the best of both worlds. “Why don’t we share both of the bins while watching _Stranger Things_?” I did not forget that I dead-ass asked him out on a date to binge the show, how could I?

 

Keith’s brows were lifting a bit, while his mouth was failing at producing words, but ultimately ending up covering his face. “You really meant that we’d watch that together?”

 

“Of course, it’s sacrilegious to not even have _heard_ of it. So, are you in?”

 

Dropping the veiny hand from his chin, the tension that built up in his shoulders seemed to gush out after I asked a second time. My stomach was acting all kinds of odd just from seeing the indescribable expression he was wearing. Was he upset, was he excited? Was he _anything_?

 

“Alright, I give into temptation. But I call the Samoas first.”

 

“You bastard.”

 

\---

“I don’t care about all this Nancy-stuff. Where is Barb?”

 

Keith’s outburst while guzzling down ice cream almost made me choke, considering I had the choice of either spoiling it, or let him lose his sanity from overthinking. His concerned eyes were staring up at me, as his hair was brushing upon my legs from looking upwards. All I gave him was a wiseacre grin, and a few eyebrow wiggles.

 

The position we were in was a bit… odd. It started out _casual_ – Keith was on the left side of the couch, and I was on the right. Around half-way through the second episode, Keith ended up on the floor, in between my wide, dangling legs, since I was taking full ownership of the whole sofa. And although it was awkward, it was cute to see his subtle facial reactions when something happens on the screen. Creepy? Yeah. Did I care? Nope.

 

“You’ll see soon, stop being such a tetchy watcher.”

 

“What the hell does that mean - you trying to pick a fight?” Keith’s fists were balled up, and it was the worst moment to have shoved a huge scoop of ice cream in my mouth. Suffering from trying not to laugh, I spurted out a bit of the Samoas chunks, instantly making both of us grossed out. “That’s so disgusting. Clean that up before I puke!” Even though there was supposed to be a serious tone in his voice, it was masked behind his insanely adorable chuckles.

 

The tissues were right next to me, since I’m such a sucker for tearjerkers, and I wiped off the mushy mess from the couch. _Stranger Things’_ outro was playing, informing me that in 15 seconds, the next episode will play. This is the one where I lost my shit on Hunk and Pidge in the first minute.

 

Keith still didn’t avert his gaze, even though he was intrigued as hell in the show, which puzzled me a bit.

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

His body moved, so he placed all his weight on his knees, attempting to level himself up to my face. _Uh-oh. Not good. Abort. Abort, damn it, don’t get closer to me_! Rough hands cupped my face, both of his thumbs rubbing way too near the corners of my lips.

 

“ **Messy** , you still had leftover cream on your lips.” Did I want to crawl in a hole from extreme embarrassment? Damn right. Nobody wants to look like an utter slob in front of their crush- _oh, fuck me, don’t lick your fingers like that_. Maybe it was the heat from getting humiliated, or it was the hot as hell guy in front of me, but I could just sense that my body was flushing red, way too fast. The fifteen seconds weren’t even over yet, this could be a new record in how quick I get heated.

 

More precisely, turned on to the max.

 

Once he finished cleaning off his fingers, Keith lounged back onto the floor, resting his perfect face on my cat slippers. _Let me catch my breath for one second, my lungs are on the verge of exploding_.

 

The sound of _Smokémon_ ringing from my phone startled the life out of me, signaling a new message from Pidge.

 

 **PIDGEY CP 45:** lance how is your first date going?

 

“Is your ringtone really a Snoop Dogg and Pokémon remix? They must be really special,” Keith’s comment made me respond with an obnoxious scoff, shoving the phone in his face, covering the text they sent.

 

“It’s just Pidge. They’re being a little shit.”

 

“What did they say?” His hands extended out to hold the phone, before I flinched back into the couch, hiding the suggestive message. “Laaanceeeeeee~”

 

“I’m not showing you!”

 

“Lance!” Climbing up onto me, he continued to fight me for my phone, suddenly way more engrossed in Pidge’s text than the show, straddling my legs down so I couldn’t move. Half of my mind was hyper-aware of the kinky position we were in, but I still could not let him read it. Not at all, I rather bleach my eyebrows before I allow it. “You’re playing dirty, I bet it’s some golden joke, too.”

 

Keith’s pout caused guilt to develop in my stomach, yet I held my ground. I refuse to lose. “You want to talk about fighting dirty?” My free hand grabbed the reclining switch from behind, and the couch made his grip weaken. The sudden move also awkwardly shifted my thighs up.

 

Death, are you there? It’s me, Lance Sanchez. I’m ready for this life to be over. Thanks.

 

“Woah there, bucko, that’s dirty.” Pidge’s voice taunted me from the phone, and the realization that we were on Facetime kicked in.

 

**_Kill me._ **

 

“Did I interrupt some artisan porno? My bad, but I’ll be glad to watch. If you’re into that.”

 

Their curious, enlarged eyes were enough to ruin the mood, and my secure clutch on the phone was pointless. Keith snatched it straight out, looking pleased with himself.

 

“Hey, Pidge, what’s up?”

 

“Ahh, I just wanted to see Lance’s face after that message, but that scene was enough of an answer for me.” You could hear the shitty grin with how they were dragging on the end of the sentence. My life’s luck is the worst.

 

“Right, what did you send to him? He wouldn’t let me read it.” There’s that too-cute sulk again. Fuck off. Fuck me.

 

The ~~harassment~~ conversation was steadily continuing, no uncomfortable silences between changing topics. It made me a bit jealous; no matter what I did, I still felt that I was destroying every discussion I had with prolonged stops. Would I be able to talk that freely one day? Can I manage that with Keith?

 

Barb’s deafeningly-loud yell made Keith’s shoulders shutter, and I knocked my head into his chest from jumping upwards. One downside to watching thrillers with me, was the fact that I overreacted. This wasn’t even the first time I saw this scene, and I banged my steel head into Keith. The impact probably fractured his ribs, since it knocked him the fuck down in an instant, taking me down with him.

 

And the rest continued in slow-motion. Pidge’s gasping, my silenced scream, Keith’s forehead pressed against mine, the friction of his chapped lips on my very own.

 

 _Hijo de puta. This is the end of the line_. _I can see bisabuela in heaven, beckoning me to join her_.

 

Of course our first kiss had to end up like this. With the yells of a TV monster and Pidge, who could also be categorized as a human-beast. Even though I faintly heard Pidge screenshotting the wicked moment, I still couldn’t let go.

 

Hell, if it’s our first kiss, might as well make it a real one, eh?

 

Adrenaline dispersing through my veins, I lightly bit down on Keith’s bottom lip, and since I was on top, I pulled on it while lifting the two of us up, the phone dropping down the couch’s crack. His fingers were fidgeting, gripping for dear life on the cushion – not that I blamed him one bit. My hands were freely wandering, before settling down on the back of his head, tangling on his hair.

 

“Lance…”

 

When I broke free from the intoxicating gravity of his lips, my breath was mingling with his, gawking at one another. I had an intense craving for more… more, way more. My heart was beating unhealthily fast, still playing with the ends of Keith’s hair, making his lips quiver. _Did he like that_?

 

“Keith- “

 

“Uh, I… I should go.” Keith shoved me back gently, and grabbed his keys from the table. _Why was he leaving? Was that not the right thing to do? Does he think it’s gross of me to do that?_

 

 _Does he think… I’m_ gross _to like that_?

 

Although I tried to stop him by holding his wrist, he tore it out of my grip ferociously, a wild glare shooting my heart with an indescribable pain. The door was closed with a terrifyingly-powerful slam, shattering everything I was hoping for.

 

Ruined it, again. I did it once again.

 

“Lance, what happened?” Pidge’s concern was evident, as my thoughts were flying across my mind. Derealization was settling in, and it hit hard: I haven’t panicked this much in years. Not since tenth grade. “Lance, are you okay – what’s wrong? It went black, are you alright?” No, I’m not. A heinous laugh was making my stomach hurt – or was it heartbreak? I couldn’t tell the fine line between what was real or not. Did this happen, or is this a nightmare?

 

Pidge’s cries didn’t matter, all that occupied my mind was the same scene, over and over again, tormenting me. Did I mess up? I probably just demolished what future we could have had.

 

Who am I kidding? There’s never any future with me. All I’m good for is somebody to make jokes about, and lift others’ spirits up. I can’t even control myself, how could I even _believe_ that I have hope?

 

“I think I need a Xanax…” my voice was cracking – when did I begin to cry? I don’t cry at my problems, especially when others are there. When was the last time I cried about something meaningful?

 

_What triggered my panic attack this time?_

 

\--

My eyes were completely bloodshot, not going away after splashing water numerous times on my face. This was the worst day ever. I even made Pidge fret over the phone, before I hung up & turned it off. Kuro, Zelda, and Artemis were comforting me to the best of their abilities, but in the end, their efforts were just futile. I understood that it was a fruitless, one-sided crush from the start. And even that did not keep me from acting out like that. How atrocious could I be?

 

Uneasiness was boiling inside my stomach, to the point where I could vomit any second. I avoided my responsibilities of studying, and only bothered to get up for the cats, the rabbit, or to pee. The sane part of my mind couldn’t recall the last time I had something to eat or drink, but it didn’t bother me. What unsettled me was that I had exams soon, I didn’t know what day it was, I destroyed my relationship with Keith, and I had to ignore everyone so I wouldn’t cause another ruckus.

 

So here I am, seated on the bathroom’s sticky floor, water trickling down from my face, and not just from cleaning it. Uncontrollable tears were flowing out like Niagara Falls, puffing up my eyes once again. Please, not another panic attack… Lance, whatever the hell you do, even if you’re a shitty person, do _not_ panic.

 

\--

 

**_BANG_ **

 

“The fuck?” Leaping up in my bed, I searched the room for the location of the sound. Were the cats fighting again, knocking over more pots? “Listen, I’m trying to bask in my misery, please don’t bicker today. For me.”

 

“I’m not a cat, you heartless bastard!” My bedroom door was now kicked open, Mariana coming in. “¿Qué carajo crees que estás hacienda _(What the fuck do you think you're doing)_?”

 

“¡Vete!”

 

Flinging one of my pillows across the room, I hit Mariana’s head, almost causing her to bang into the doorframe. That was not a good decision: Mariana has severe anger issues.

 

“Lance! No te metas conmigo!”

 

Cursing at one another in a mixture of Spanish and English, I managed to get out of my safe haven (the bed), and get all up in Mariana’s face. If mama or papa was here to witness this, I would be the one suffering a deathly punishment. As the older-brother, I was supposed to be a role model for the younger siblings, but I’m far from that. Some boundaries were meant for friends to cross, and family to be shielded from. This is a situation where friends should not come in proximity to, let alone **family**.

 

So why did the most temperamental one show up?

 

Mariana obviously wasn’t having my shit, punching my shoulder with intense force. “¿Qué te molesta? You didn’t answer mama today. Do you even know what day it is?”

 

I didn’t know what day it was. I couldn’t distinguish between morning and night in my room, having none of the lights on and the windows covered.

 

“Nada, nada. Estoy enferma.”

 

“Mierda.” Shoving her finger in my face, I noticed that her whole body was trembling: whether it was from fear or anger, I couldn’t tell. “Pidge came banging down our door at five in the morning, hoping that you’d be there, since you haven’t answered here when they visited. Mama called you when you were born, 6:17 AM, but you did not pick up, so she’s in hysterics. Abuelo couldn’t make it today from the hospital, but still shipped you out a card! Everyone’s been shut out, and you won’t tell us what is happening! So come out clean now-”

 

My phone dropped to the floor, diverting both our attention on it. I completely forgot that it was in my sweatpants, and now, it was turning on, the Apple logo way too bright in the dark room.

 

“Guess my answer’s clear,” Mariana bended over, picking up the phone before I came to my senses. “It’s just like tenth grade, huh?” _What_? “You know, when you holed yourself up in your room for a year, doing online school.” _Since when_ \- “Did you think I couldn’t figure it out? We’re not too far apart in age, I could sense something was wrong. Never found out exactly what it was, though.” She managed to unlock my phone’s password on the first attempt, patiently waiting for the messages to load. Various ideas were soaring through my brain, connecting different reasons together to understand how she realized. Why was I finding this out only now? “¡Dios Mío! 281 messages, 17 missed calls and Facetimes, 9 Snaps, fuck – who even messages on Facebook?”

 

The phone was tossed back at me, as I sloppily caught it, still mesmerized by this catastrophic turn of events. The terribly ironic part of life is that your efforts always makes a series of events that stem off from it. This is one of those times: where all your strenuous work of covering up the past is unraveled in front of your very eyes, from someone you never expected. Our universe is a cruel one, where actions have reactions, positive and negative. It can never be predicted, no matter what you do to understand others.

 

Surprises always transpire when you wish for them not to. That’s why life is grim, for even the most unsullied people.

 

Scrolling through my abundance of notifications, a shock went through my spine, seeing Keith’s name numerous times. Why would he still bother with me after all I did?

 

I decided to be brave, and swiped to the right, opening the messages.

 

 **KEITH** : I had to restart episode 3. You distract me too much                                                                                                                      11:37 AM FRI.

 **KEITH** : what the fuck, they didn’t even come back for her in the end                                                                                                          6:20 PM FRI.

 **KEITH** : and there’s no season 2? My life is officially over.                                                                                                                           6:21 PM FRI.    

 

Couldn’t help but giggle out loud at that dramatic comment. Who would have thought he would be the type to be that preposterous of a person…?

 

 **KEITH** : Lance?                                                                                                                                                                                            3:01 AM SAT.

 **KEITH** : Listen Lance, I’m sorry I stormed out like that. You’re not responding, and it’s starting to worry me now.                                      3:39 AM SAT.

 **KEITH** : I’m not mad, please just tell me you’re okay. I’m sorry.                                                                                                                  3:39 AM SAT

 **KEITH** : happy birthday, lance.                                                                                                                                                                    12:00 AM SUN.

 

Remorse engulfed all of my senses, not capable of trusting my own eyes.

 

“M-Mariana?” Her eyes traveled to mine, as I was shuddering. “What… what time is it?”

 

“Look at your own phone, idiot.”

 

“Right…” Trailing down slowly to the fuzzy numbers, I could barely make out what the read, tears threatening to cascade down.

 

**1:28 PM**

 

Exhaling a weak sigh, I closed my eyes immediately, clenching my teeth to hold back word vomit from blurting out. The stinging sensation of having both eyes shut was causing harsh waves of emotions to hit me, the core of my sanity cracking. Who sobs on their birthday? Lance Sanchez, the unhinged loser who confides in his pets.

 

“Call mama and abuelo when you can, but first, clean yourself up. ¿Por qué huele como un perro muerto ( _Why do you smell like a dead dog_ )?” Mariana tightly grasped my shoulder, a tiny chuckle vibrating through my ears. “Go shower, nasty. I’m out.”

 

My responsibilities evolved from just studying, which I have managed to ignore for almost two whole days. _It’s time to cram everything in at once_.

 

\--

 

My eardrums may be a bit wonky right now, since I got vehemently lectured from mama and papa, abuelo chatting for about half an hour about the drama going on in the hospital, and abuelita only just woke up from a rough night of gambling, so that took some edge off of my guilty conscious. Now, it was time to confront everyone else, and the best plan I could think of was to add Keith to our group chat, taking it all on at once. Majority of the messages came from Shiro and Hunk, the most responsible ones in our group of friends, constantly checking in with me.  The group chat was loaded with texts, no memes in sight.

 

So, why not make it revert back to normal?

****

** KINKY SPACE NUNS **

**Pidgey CP 45, Hunky Man, #DAD, Allurduh, caBROn, Keith**

 

 **caBROn:** soooooooooooo… estoy de vuelta???

 

 **Hunky Man:** LANCE

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : holy shit the dead messagES

 **Pidgey CP 45** : WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU WHAT HAPPENED AFTER THAT ACCIDENT ARE YOU OKAY DIDD IYOU DO SOMETHNIG I FEEL SO BAD

 

 **Hunky Man:** THANK GOD I ALMOST HAD TWO HUNDRED HEART ATTACKS TODAY ALONE GOD I ALMOST MADE MY PARENTS STAB ME FROM FRUSTRATION

 

 **#DAD:** Welcome back. Are you okay?

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** NO NEED TO BE SO FORMMAL SHIRO THIS IS A CONFRONTATION

 **Pidgey CP 45:** @LANCE

 

 **Allurduh:** I second Shiro

 

 **Hunky Man:** LANCE ARE YOU THERE

 

 **caBROn:** It’s Gucci mane fam, lmao, do not fret small children

 **caBROn:** just busy

 **caBROn:** sick, studying, cat pee making me sneeze

 

 **Allurduh:** why the hell did you not text us at least once

 

 **#DAD:** Are you telling the truth, Lance?

 

_That punctured my heart valves hard. There’s no reason to worry them. None at all, don’t make them stress any more than they already have._

 

 **caBROn:** yep im feeling better, although mariana said I reek

 **caBROn:** rude af

 

 **Hunky Man:** lance

 

 **Keith:** Thank God. I was concerned, it’s good to know you’re doing better.

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** omg

 

 **Allurduh:** uh

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** KEITH

 

 **Hunky Man:** KEITH?

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** KEEEITHHHH

 **Pidgey CP 45:** KEITH IMMA KILL YUOUUUUU WHERES YOUR HOUSE ATTTT

 

 **#DAD:** Guys, guys, settle down.

 **#DAD:** Keith, why is Pidge criminalizing you?

 

 **caBROn:** pidge stop its all good in the hood

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** I WAS PETRIFIED THAT SOMETHING BAD HAPPENED AGAIN LANCE WYM STOP

 **Pidgey CP 45:** IF ANYTHING HAPPENED I’D LOSE MY MIND

 

 **Keith** : Again?

 

 **Allurduh** : pidge drop it

 **Allurduh** : anyways lance, we should celebrate your birthday together! Are you up to coming out?

 

 **caBROn** : gimme a lil bit, where tho

 

 **#DAD** : Well, we’re kind of banned from McSorley’s after what happened, so let’s not go there…

 

 **Hunky Man** : ughhhh I wanna see lance toooooooooo~ sob sob

 

 **caBROn** : send you selfies later boobear

 **caBROn:** mwaaahhhh

 

 **Allurduh** : I’ll splurge tonight since you guys paid for my birthday. I think Tia Pol sounds delightful rn

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** ooooo snazzy. im in if allura’s paying lmao #cheap4days #brokelife

 

 **caBROn:** hell yeah mamacita lets goOOOO HOW ABOUT A RESERVATION AT 4

 

 **Allurduh** : alrighty

 **Allurduh** : aaaannnnddd DONE

 

 **#DAD** : I’ll pay my half

 

 **Hunky Man** : [cries]

 

 **Keith** : um… so should I come or no?

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : HHHHHHNNNNN

 

 **caBROn:** yes

 **caBROn** : [nancy voice] to study

 

 **#DAD:** oooooo

 

 **Allurduh** : ooooo o o o o oooooo

 **Allurduh** : finally watched it so I get it

 

 **Hunky Man** : THE FEELS

 

 **#DAD** : enough flirting in the group chat, go shower if Mariana said that you reek

 

**caBROn:**

 

 

 **Keith:** I don't get it

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** you bout to get thIS FOOT UP  YOUR ASS BOI

 

 **#DAD:** PIDGE

 

 **Allurduh:** PIDGE STOPPPPPPPPPPPP 

 

 **Hunky Man:** nice dank meme lance [ignores pidge drama] 

 

 **caBROn:** [same hunk my bff] mucho gracias

 

 

* * *

 


	4. FOUR: Distress Signal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Longer by about 1k words from the previous chap (damn girl wyd). 
> 
> The squad (minus Hunk) go out for Lance's birthday dinner, get drunk as hell, play an eye-opening game of Never Have I Ever, and ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) happens. Also some emo foreshadowing/build-up because this is an angsty story and I hate myselfffffff!!!!!!!!!!

 

Pidge’s adamant stance on Keith joining us for _my_ birthday dinner was beginning to aggravate me, since they kept sending various reasons how it could go wrong, why it was the world’s most terrible plan ever, and that they don’t have much remaining trust in him. As understandable as their point is (they saw and heard what happened), I still had no desire to terminate my friendship with Keith. Or whatever this has become: I am more puzzled than everyone else about this situation, but tonight may alleviate the unsettling feeling I have about seeing him again.

 

It was more dramatic than those pop punk love songs Pidge keeps mailing me, and it was difficult to just come to an agreement on that.

 

If I was going to arrive in time, I needed to head out now, or it would be a grave mistake. Shiro’s already at Tia Pol, mixing into the spams I was receiving from Pidge and Hunk, frightened to be the only one waiting when Allura appears. And as much as a distant person I could be, I understood the panic Shiro was dealing with. The two of us had an uncanny similarity to our pasts, which is why we met in the first place.

 

Grabbing my keys in a frenzy, I gave each of the three cats a kiss goodbye on their heads, and hastily raced over to the quaint Spanish venue where my twentieth birthday would take place.

 

\--

 _“[Dejaré aquí pedazos de ti…](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LL-2slEtzHQ)” _ Tia Pol’s Hipster-Spanish music was slightly heard a few feet away from the entrance, as Shiro and Pidge were waving for me. Humming along to the beat (they always play the same songs here), I fastened up my pace a tad bit, hugging Shiro first as a greeting, and then Pidge.

 

Shiro’s overly-gorgeous voice was making my ears feel slightly less in pain, considering I was flamed by all my family on the phone not a few hours ago. “Glad you could make it, man. You had me worried, but at last, this present will not go in vain,” Handling the hilariously-tacky gift box lightly in his prosthetic hand, I stumbled on holding in a snicker, wondering where he got the wrapping paper from. It had a turquoise-backdrop, with a Siamese cat above the cursive ‘ _Happy Birthday_!’ I figured, since blue is my all-time preferred color, and cats are one of the best parts of living, he specifically chose it for my witty taste. As much as it was the thought that counts, it did not cut-down on the lameness of it. He’s worse than my 51-year-old dad.

 

On the other hand, Pidge’s present for me was making their backpack look deformed. They come from a wealthy background, which accounts for their occasional-selfish indulgences, but Pidge recovered every time by making their gift the grandest one. It constantly made me feel guilty, as if I was mooching off of Pidge and her family’s income. That was one reason why the two of us were total foils of each other: while Pidge had a rather-miniscule family, mine was chaotically extended. There was abuelo from mama’s side, along with two tías, and abuelita from papa’s, having four tíos and one tía. New cousins came around about every-two years, since both my padres were the oldest.

 

Xavier (25) and Bianca (23) were the oldest ones, then I came along, followed by the twins Mariana & Finn (16), Elliot (6), and then Zoe (4). When our tía Camilla and her promiscuous husband fight, she stays with us, camping out in Bianca’s old room. As complicated as our family is, there’s nothing more homey than visiting the house where it all started.

 

The nostalgic hit was short-lived, since Allura showed up around the time Pidge was staring into my soul, and Keith popped out from the middle of nowhere, not even a full minute after Allura. He was obviously winded from running here, and I couldn’t stop my mind from pondering why his breathing was ragged.

 

Tension between the five of us was raging like a wildfire, before Allura (bless you, beautiful woman) clapped her hands, smiling like there was no problem at all. “Well, since we’re all here, let’s go inside! I’m starving.” Nobody fought with her preposition, entering the tiny restaurant without missing a beat. Our reserved table was all the way at the end, by one of the walls, and I could not be more relaxed: I always wanted the inside seat, to avoid having my chair stick out too-much and being pushed in to make room. Anxiety works in strange ways.

 

Shiro and I were seated in front of one another, being the backbone for each other’s nervous dining habits. While I feared awkward confrontations with the waiter, Shiro was uncomfortable with others watching him eat. This was the best position for us in the end, and we rarely ever switch it up. Pidge had the edge of the table, Allura sat to the right of Shiro, and Keith to the left of me.

 

I would be dishonest if I said there was nothing to worry about, because my heart raced at a beat almost comparable to a NASCAR champion, my irrational thoughts replacing all the common sense engraved in my instincts. _Please do not make another mistake tonight, look at how dismal of a result it had on everyone here (beyond Hunk)_.

 

Idle chatter was tuning out the music, and time seemed to remain stagnant. I was trapped in a daze, countless unrealistic concepts traveling throughout the barely-conscious brain of mine. It reached the point where I had no clue what I ordered, and to be frank, it did not matter at all. My mind was occupied with millions of thoughts revolving around Keith, and how his eyes flickered back-and-forth between Allura and I during their conversation. _Fuck, you really landed yourself too deep this time, Lance_.

 

\--

 

“Pidge, that’s not how you say it, it’s pronounced ‘usotsuki.’ It also doesn’t mean brat, it’s to claim someone’s a liar.” Shiro pointed his finger while we were heading out, Pidge mimicking his movements. After our tapas were handed out, and Allura ordered drinks for all of us, the apprehensive vibe between everyone eased out, especially Keith and I. We engaged in a few conversations, and after we finished eating, all five fought over who was paying. Immediately, I was bounced out of the debate, since it was ‘my birthday,’ and it was surprisingly resolved by Pidge in the end: Allura and Shiro would pay for what we had here, and the after party would be on Keith and them.

 

Without voicing my own opinions on this matter, all of us were migrating to my apartment, carrying an excessive amount of alcohol (Pidge went overboard) and snacks (Keith, too). What was even more astonishing, was that Hunk had come home earlier than expected, attacking me in an air-tight hug.

 

Times like this remind me that it would be good to get prescribed an inhaler soon.

 

And we ended up to where we are now: the six of us, all drinking in the middle of our living room, Hunk’s trap music bouncing off the walls. A sparkly tiara was secured on my head by Allura, the both of us tipsily chuckling in the exchange with one another.

 

“Alright, you fuckers, I have a delightful as **hell** proposition for you guys, and you do _not_ want to pass this up!” Pidge lifted the can of beer up high, resembling the Statue of Liberty in the faintest sense. “We should play ‘Never Have I Ever,’ especially since we have all this fucking alcohol.”

 

“I’m in it to win it, honey,” Hunk bellowed, wrapping his arm around Shiro’s shoulders and swaying gently. “Break the ice, man, break the ice.”

 

Pidge scavenged throughout the cabinets for enough shot glasses, and although they all were different patterns (except Allura and Keith’s), they relatively were around the same size.

 

It started out with pouring vodka first.

 

Everyone looked at Hunk, since he was the last to join us. “Okay, I’ll go first.” The strain on his face from thinking of a question was clear, earning an almost-inaudible scoff from me. “Never have I ever… had an attraction to a teacher.”

 

Pidge, Allura’s, and Hunk himself downed a full shot of the vodka, equally cringing as hard as one another on their first drink. The opening drink was always the most uncomfortable one, but it gets the mood flowing, especially for everyone else. Keith’s expression was bewildered, and Shiro was squinting at the back of Allura’s head, silently questioning who it was.

 

“Okay, okay, never have I ever… sneaked into a movie without paying,” Pidge’s shit-eating grin has made a comeback, as I was snarling in their direction. They knew it was drastic measures, yet they backstab me in a moment like this. Uttering a few profanities, I had a shot, and so did Shiro, the two of us making uncomfortable eye contact with each other.

 

Because it was for him, I sneaked into the theater to watch _Catching Fire_ , although I had no money at the time. That was around a month after I began group-therapy sessions and met him, hitting it off instantly. They didn’t know who I went with, but Pidge and Hunk eventually found out I snuck out of the house, when I was supposed to have a final exam for my online class.

 

It was Allura’s turn next, as she was viciously tapping her finger, ominously moving her eyes around the room. “How about… never have I ever flirted my way out of a traffic ticket?”

 

“Fucking _fuck_ , **fuck**!” Gritting my teeth, I gulped the whole shot in one try, groaning to myself. Are they purposely attacking me for humor, or do they truly want me to reach my final form of being drunk? It’s not pretty.

 

 The rest of the questions were really eye-opening, and I only had to drink a total of three more times. Pidge, despite being the youngest one here, was completely obliterated, and Allura followed suit. I managed to learn that Keith once dyed his hair in seventh grade, getting in major trouble at school. Shiro had a tattoo of Jupiter on his left shoulder, which none of us could have ever guessed. He never wore anything vaguely close to a see-through fabric, and never took his shirt off. Hunk always told me everything about his escapades, considering he had the tendency to over-share and loves to enthuse about life. Pidge was handcuffed once, but under a false charge, and they got payback by hacking the police officer’s home computer, installing an undetectable virus onto it. They also transferred thousands of pornographic images on it, which his wife found.

 

I learned to never piss off Pidge Holt to that extreme, unless I wanted to be incarcerated for life, or have my entire existence destroyed.

\--

 

Everyone was plastered, except Keith, Shiro, and I, the ones who kept a decently-stable water-to-alcohol ratio, sobering up between shots. It was a state between being intoxicated, but not quite levelheaded. Shiro’s repetitive yawns were signaling that he was about to pass out – he never held his liquor down for long – so I tucked him in to sleep on the couch, wrapping the quilt my late abuela made for my birthday years back around his frame. Not even five minutes later, and he was out like a light.

 

Keith was the only one still lasting, Hunk snuggling up to Pidge on the fuzzy rug, and the cats plodding around Allura’s sleeping bag.

 

“Do you want anything?” My voice shook a bit, but Keith was oblivious to it, looking around the house. The ice cream bins from the other day were still on the floor, since I was too distracted by my despondency after the incident.

 

“I’m good.”

 

Keith’s hands brushed against mine, causing my heart to yearn for him even more. _Hold it, hold me_. I coveted his touch with intense vigor, but my judgement was clouded by the long night of drinking, torn between wanting and restricting. When I wake up tomorrow, would I regret my decisions? Would I rather live in the present, and say ‘fuck you’ to the future-me? Or should I be reasonable?

 

“I’m sorry,” Keith’s usual burning-hot confidence was replaced with a remorseful tone, bashfully sinking down to the floor. His trembling arms covered his legs, making my indecent thinking come to a halt. “For… the other day, I-I didn’t mean to act like that… I was just,” while he was talking, his hands tightly gripped onto his hair, disheveling the frizzy mullet. “I was stunned. I- “

 

“Keith, there’s no need for you to apologize,” bending down, I took his quivering hands into my own grasp, forcing him to face me head-on, and look in my eyes. “It was my fault in the end, I acted out on the once-in-a-lifetime chance I was given, and I regret it. I’m sorry I did that to you.”

 

Silence engulfed the whole room, beyond the hushed buzzing of Hunk’s music. Keith’s face was a bundle of diverse expressions, and I realized that there was no possible way to decipher what was plaguing his mind. Was it the alcohol, was all of this building up inside of him? Does he bottle up his emotions, or does he spontaneously rage like a hurricane when he needs to talk to someone?

 

I had a single piece to the puzzle of Keith’s life, and I had the audacity to think that we were becoming friends. What kind of friend has no clue about their companion’s problems?

 

A shitty one, and it was settling in, that not only did I make a grave error by kissing him, I did not know the first thing about Keith Kogane. It stung, more than getting prodded by a hornet’s venomous stinger. I disillusioned myself, I disillusioned Keith.

 

“Do you really… feel that negative about what happened?” My stomach was jabbed with numerous flights of guilt, his pained face making everything fade to black.

 

I wanted to rip myself apart, and erase all of his grief. Clear myself from his memories – but did I truly want to be a stranger? Was I being honest to myself, or was I acting selflessly again?

 

Was being honest more important in this moment, or should I fabricate a _believable_ truth?

 

“To be honest, and I’m not going to hold back, I feel like absolute shit for what happened.” Keith’s focus was moving towards the floor, but before he managed to completely avoid me, I guided his face back to gaze at mine, both hands cupping the sides of his face. “I’m _not done_ speaking, Keith.” My voice was a bit brash, more assertive than I was hoping for, and I presumed my point got across, since Keith gulped, not averting his eyes from my own. “I don’t know how you feel about this, it’s only been a few days since we met, and, fucking hell… I’ve been attracted to you since I first saw you walking through the coffee shop, like you were some smoking-hot emo who listens to the most ridiculously depressing band ever – okay, beyond spoken word, but you get the point – and I swear, it wasn’t my intention to kiss you without your permission. It was an accident, but I continued on, deepening it. Damn it, I want to kiss you right fucking now but I’m holding back, because you deserve to be respected and I don’t want to make you go through that shit again. I’m a terrible person and I reflected on my actions this whole weekend, so please, forgive me. Yeah, I’m not worthy to have you overlook what happened, but I- “

 

Keith’s nipped my bottom lip, his sharp teeth etching raw lines throughout it. The entire time, his enchanting blue eyes boring into mine, electrifying shocks sparking across the entirety of my body. His clutch on my lip became even more rough, pulling me nonchalantly closer to him.

 

My desire was swelling up inside of me, gruff moans exuding from me. Once his sunken-teeth let go, I could feel my libido overtaking me, dangerously untamable. I was on edge, hell, I was in a lustful trance just from the slightest contact. _More_. His index finger directed my face upwards, gliding his tongue on his own lips, way too close in proximity. _More_. Shamelessly, I breathed out his name, going into overdrive – it was unbearable. _More, more_.

 

A cocky, lopsided smirk was playing on his darkening-red lips, my fingertips unconsciously moving to touch them. It was the first encounter I had with his open-mouthed smile, and I wanted to spread it open. I didn’t want to just see it, I wanted to feel it. The tough pad on my thumb was brushing his lips, Keith’s steady-breathing hitching. _Does he like that_?

 

“Lance…” Once he blinked, his eyes were shaking back and forth, an indescribable shine in them. Fuck, I was drawn in – hypnotized by the simplest of actions. And it wasn’t me who initiated the kiss, it was Keith.

 

My arms curled around his neck, while his left hand was pulling on the hem of my shirt, still turning my head with his right-index finger. All rationality was finally leaving my mind, concentrating on the smooth lips against my chapped ones. My skin was tingling with an intensity I’ve never experienced, causing my blood to boil. Keith’s touch lingered like a bruise, vehemently gripping onto my hips.

 

This was heaven, a human-bliss that never felt so right before. My hips were silently aching, but screaming for more. His pants were getting huskier with each stop, and the once-passionate exchange of lips were becoming fervently sensual, both of us exploring each other’s bodies with extreme care. I have damn bad intentions, but I didn’t have to cease my actions anytime soon.

 

Because Keith, in this moment, was commanding my every move: making out with me, on his own accord. My soul was on fire, flames dispersing throughout my veins – I couldn’t control my own emotions.

 

I was helpless. I was drenched in desire, begging for relief.

 

“¿Te gusta eso?” Catching my breath, I slipped into speaking Spanish before I knew it, which meant I was long gone. That was surreal, my lips nearly numb from the rough kiss. “Estoy… estoy loco por ti…” Keith was gently massaging my cheeks with his two thumbs, making me melt inside. I’m losing my sanity because of him – Keith Kogane was an ineffable enigma, never leaving any room for somebody to solve the mystery behind him. And I… I was a paradox, torn between logic and emotion. No agglomeration of words could explain either of us, too complex for our own good.

 

I wanted Keith, I wanted to connect the pieces of who he is, and understand what he is thinking. What he is feeling, what his desires are, his fears… every possible thing.

 

I may be starting to fall-

 

“Where’s your bathroom?” Keith’s gagging instantly turned the mood to a sour one, my trail of thoughts abandoned. Shaking my head in disbelief – because what kind of fucked up shit have I done to deserve this karma – I ushered him into the guest bathroom, holding back his hair while he puked. The two of us were only in reversed positions a few days back, and it seems that the drastically-long pathway to knowing Keith Kogane was getting easier to pass, but the distance becoming further.

 

Keith, _what exactly happened out there_?

 

\--

 

_The previous family who lived here was made up of a single mom, and two little boys. They were supposedly the liveliest bunch here for years, yet friendly to all their neighbors, no matter how disruptive the others were. Before the boys’ dad divorced their mom, he helped decorate the room they bunked in to their heart’s content, a scatter of glow-in-the-dark stars and planets on the roof._

_When Hunk and I managed to land this apartment, it was one of the first things that captivated my full-attention: the askew stickers on the rooftop, of what would be my room. They conveyed a story that an outsider like me would never be a part of, and it fascinated me. It comforted me, to remind me that even if I had been to hell and back, there’s still a universe of opportunities and events waiting to be chosen._

_I let the boys from the past have their meaning embedded into them, and I never dared to tear off that story. Instead, I developed to respect them, and the dramatic irony behind it all – stars do not shine in the daylight, but they are always there… just like how people don’t wear themselves on their sleeves all the time, but that doesn’t mean that the person has nothing to show._

_My meaning, and the two brothers’ meaning attached to the stickers, coexisted. It was a way to cope with my feelings, and as I was laying there, gawking at them, it lessened the extremity of my emotions_.

 

Keith stumbled out of the bathroom, plodding into my room without a word. The apartment was submerged in absolute silence, no words being spoken, no sounds being made.

 

Once Keith made his way to my bed, he slowly leaned back, shoulders brushing against my own. His breath was emitting the smell of our cheap mouthwash, but it only brought more serenity into the scene.

 

Was I more engrossed in the stars, or the man next to me?

 

“Hey, Lance?”

 

“Hmmmmm~” I quietly hummed, waiting for his answer.

 

“What are you afraid of?”

 

The question disturbed my tranquil mind, as I rolled around in the bed to face him, gently glaring at one another. For some reason, the question rattled my core, unsettling the mood.

 

“Why do you ask?”

 

“I don’t know… I’m impulsive, I guess.” His demure grin was faulting, eyes still attentive on me.

 

It’s late at night, Lance, you should know that this is when people get inquisitive. You have had nights where you don’t sleep at all because you’re lost in theories and curiosity. Don’t make him panic- “I’m scared of **living**.” It took a couple of seconds to register that I blurted out the truth I have never told a soul about, but I couldn’t end what I was saying on such a hazy answer – Keith was baffled by my outburst. “I’ve been terrified of life for so long, and I try my hardest to be positive, but… I wish all my problems would have ended ages ago. Life carries on, and memories stain the person you were. It makes me worried that in time, I’ll be unrecognizable.” I paused a second to ease my anxious breathing, “Death is no longer a threat to me, I accept it as another inevitable factor. What starts must end, right?”

 

“That’s not true,” Keith’s panicked voice made all his words jumble into one. “Just because one thing’s gone doesn’t mean it’s finished. And… and I think you are worthy of life, and I don’t say that to just anyone,” his fingers wandered around the whole time he was talking, until they lightly rested onto my left hand. “Lance, you… you are capable of having a better life. You’re a great person.”

 

Although his speech wasn’t truly helping me cope, I accepted his efforts, and tried to make it look like I appreciated him. I gave a reassuring squeeze, along with a gentle smile.

 

“Enough about me, you should get some rest.” Repositioning myself on the bed, I sat up without dragging him down, all set on getting some coffee. There’s no way I could sleep with this emo God, who I just made-out with about fifteen minutes ago, in this state of mind.

 

“Where are you going?” His arm reached out for me in the dark, but I was already standing, a few steps away from his approach. “Are… are you going to come back?”

 

Shit, his voice was meek and cracking at the end, hinting that he was still enduring through his drunkenness. It was cute, yet so tender and sorrowful… another guilt trip was building up.

 

“Yes, I promise.” Tapping his nose to sit back down, his drowsy smile made enough of an impact to rile up my system, watching Keith coil up into fetal position, gripping onto the messy duvet.

 

Even though it was my twentieth birthday, I was preoccupied half the day with our first kiss, and the rest of the night with our second one.

\--

 

Around six in the morning, I finished cramming in all my study material, guzzling down my third cup of coffee. When I was about to go make a fourth one, Shiro was stretching his body out, trying to work-out any knots that formed from sleeping on the couch.

 

“Oh, Lance, good morning.”

 

“Good morning, dad.” Cheekily winking, I was amazed by how attractive his morning voice was. Allura would be a lucky girl to land him, and as much as I was rooting for them, something seemed off.

 

His feet were miraculously avoiding stepping on any of the three dead-asleep on the ground, and the cats were rubbing up all against him. Kuro loved Shiro more than me, which always hurt my feelings, since Kuro was the one I got Hunk for his fifteenth birthday.

 

“You must have been working hard, do you need any help studying?” He came across the kitchen, filling up a cup for him and another for me.

 

“It’s all good, bud, just couldn’t sleep.” Once Shiro was facing in my direction, I nodded towards my door, signaling I still had more to say. “Keith is knocked out in there, and don’t tell him I said this to you, but he sits up in his sleep.”

 

“ _Oh_?”

 

“Yeah. I was like, this is completely new, and I have roomed with all of my siblings at once before. I thought he may need an exorcism, but he fell back down after a few minutes.”

 

“I guess you learn something new every day – every night?” Shiro’s soft chuckle brought fictional tears to my eyes, God, how could this man be the literal fucking sun? Just stop, develop something bad about yourself. Too good of a person, if he even is one. “But, did anything happen between you two last night?”

 

Struggling to refrain from blushing, I nodded my head in defeat, Shiro clanking my glass with such euphoria. “Well, we, uh… kind of made out???” He spat out his sip of coffee, eyes widening like a deer. _Continue on, Lance_ … was readable by his expressions, as I buried my face into my hands, feeling heat surface up to my cheeks. “It was one thing after another, and – uh, yeah. Stop making me embarrass myself~”

 

Shiro and I were laughing in unison, one more loudly than the other (me). It always felt natural to confide in Shiro, my friend from therapy. My friend who can read me like the back of my palm, the one who I committed a crime for to see a movie even though we were broke, the one who has also personally seen hell and survived it.

 

“So, do you want to discuss why you **isolated yourself** again?”

 

The kind-hearted conversation took a turn for the worse, the burden on my shoulders getting heavier and heavier. Not once did he blink, nor flinch, while maintaining eye contact – and I wanted nothing more than to dodge the topic.

 

“It, I, um… it’s all settled now, so let’s not- “

 

“Did you tell him about what happened in **tenth grade**?”

 

 _I was viewing everything in shades of red_.

 

Tenth grade. Drinking, partying, out with people I had the utmost trust in. When I believed others were worth having faith in, no matter who they were, or where they came from. When I still _trusted_.

 

The sudden splash of burning coffee on my skin snapped me out of the hellish trance, Shiro’s fingers annoyingly tapping on the countertop. _Stop it_.

 

“Lance, do you know the consequences that come with distancing yourself from others?” _Stop it, not know_ … “The last time this happened, you spent a whole year in online school, secluded from every one but your family.” Shiro, this is… “You are reverting back to the Lance you were when you were broken and lonely, and I’ll be damned, Lance, if you try to kill yourself _one more time_ \- “

 

**_“Shut up!”_ **

 

Smashing my cup so hard it cracked, the wrath and sadness and anxiety I have bottled up for years was being pounded into, seeping out bit by bit. The piercing yelp made Shiro jump, and the others were starting to rustle around, half-consciously groaning from the outburst.

 

“Lance, come on, you need to talk to us when you’re feeling this way. We are all here, _I’m_ here. Trust me, you are not a bother- “

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

Keith’s raspy voice rung throughout the rooms, as he sleepily rubbed his eyes, confused about what is unraveling in front of him. My fight-or-flight instinct was settling in, distraught between facing my problems head-on, or letting them dissolve on their own. Shiro’s fierce glare was peering into my soul, and he comprehended me. He knew exactly what kind of person I was, and he’s the biggest hurdle to overcome when hiding my emotions. Keith shrugged his shoulders, still feeling unclear about the situation, when Shiro leaned across the table, slapping my head with his prosthetic arm.

 

“Ow! What the fuck?” Rubbing the area that would form an eventual-bump, Shiro was angrily drinking his coffee, ignoring me. “Hey, Shiro, now you’re avoiding this?”

 

“Hhhhmmmm? I’m trilingual, but I don’t speak the language of idiots.”

 

“UGH.”

 

Keith tensed up, tiptoeing past the drama like an innocent bystander, grabbing a bottle of water and searching for ibuprofen. The temptation to punch Shiro was eating me alive, but deep down, I acknowledged that he was one-hundred-percent correct.

 

_But my pride would not allow me to admit it out loud._

 

\--

** KINKY SPACE NUNS **

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** what the fuck happened last night

 **Pidgey CP 45:** all I know is that something happened and I missed out on the juicy drama so fill me in rn

 

 **Hunky Man** : Pidge we are literally all in the same room

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** yea but I don’t want keith to be a part of this

 

 **caBROn** : pidge you idiot

 **caBROn** : if I didn’t wipe his contact ouT OF HERE THIS WOULD HAVE BEEN SUPER EMEBARASSING OFOR ME

 

 **#DAD:** well well well, someone is actually talking about their true feelings

 

 **caBROn:** bicth byeeeeeeeee

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** what is this nonsense rebellion lance

 **Pidgey CP 45:** *confusion*

 

 **#DAD:** nothing, stop texting. Allura is getting weird looks from Keith because her phone keeps going off but she’s still conversing with him.

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** UGHHHHHHH

 

 

“Lance, we should kick everyone out and dig into the cake by ourselves,” Hunk suggested, earning evil death stares from Pidge and a distressed one from Shiro. “Sorry, guys, but like… we don’t have classes today, and I need some sugar and less drama.” Standing up from the couch, he pranced his way into the kitchen, digging out the cake from the freezer.

 

Shiro and Allura were both alternating between chatting with Keith, and that left only Pidge.

 

“Sooooooooo, what happened last night?” Pidge began tickling me, but I straight-up decked them in the shoulder, warding off any potential danger to my body. Even if I am ticklish, I only allow my younger siblings to use it as a battling tactic, not Pidge, who was scrawny and short-circuited in the early hours.

 

The caffeine in my bloodstream was starting to die out, and that means a migraine would soon be on the way, but that wasn’t stopping me from indulging in some cannoli cake. Hunk possesses some crazy-ass baking skills, and I would die if I did not at least have one piece of my _own_ birthday dessert.

 

Snubbing Pidge, I trudged to the kitchen, sensing a pair of eyes on me. So, it would be safe to say that when I peered over my shoulder, Keith’s cocky grin was back, while pointing to his lips. Does that mean to pay attention to them?

 

‘Your hips sway when you walk. I like it.’

 

Death was banging at my door, my pulse raising up higher than ever before. His comment was stupid and pointless as hell, but it made me lift my spirits up. Keith must like my hips, if he was touching them so much last night… wait.

 

Wait.

 

Does he remember what happened?

 

My fluffy exterior went straight to cold-blooded killer, radiating a poisonous aura that frightened off all the pets from being in the same vicinity as me. _This bastard, stop making my mind do somersaults back and forth to get a glimpse of what you’re thinking_.  

 

Allura peeked out from Keith’s shoulder, repulsed by my stance. “Lance, you look constipated. Please stop making that unflattering face- oh Gosh, that is much worse- Lance, stop it- stop it.”

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REFERENCES:   
> 1) the song playing at Tia Pol is: “Animal” by the band Hello Seahorse!   
> 2) here's the shitty wrapping paper Shiro had for the birthday present oml http://www.zazzle.co.uk/siamese_cat_happy_birthday_wrapping_paper-256655895373097825   
> 3) “¿Te gusta eso?” = You like that?   
> 4) "Estoy loco por ti" = I'm crazy about you   
> 5) this is literally lance's face when he finds out keith is being a peRV GOD https://66.media.tumblr.com/0c7e1fea5438e7ebf646692a6e4b9643/tumblr_o0x2bbnT9Y1uzevb7o1_500.gif and just drama-fy it even more with each second bc he's a LOSER
> 
> hoped you enjoyed ahahahaha painful tears


	5. FIVE: Casual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yeah this chapter is kind of fast-paced & has like 76k song references, but that's bc writer's block hit me like a tornado (AGAIN). Basically the rundown: 
> 
> Lance is sulking, until Keith shows up, and asks him a question that opens a world of opportunities for him. 
> 
> the rest is basically spoiling it so idc enjoy the SUFFERING (also, a round of applause for DOMINATING!KEITH js jsssss) ((not crazy/possessive tho i just personally kinda dig it a little))

 

“Square Circles” by _Moon Taxi_ resounded throughout the jam-packed coffee shop, Pidge and I taking turns managing what songs are playing. Today, being the official-end of final exams, meant that Black Gold was filled with customers, the line extending to the small shop next door. Back-up employees were called in today, lessening the stressful burden Hunk has on taking orders.

 

Swigging down another gulp of my third Hazelnut Frappuccino _today_ , my eyes were closely following the text of Hunk’s Physics textbook, twitching every few words. Pidge was clearly perturbed by how I was acting today, glancing over their shoulder to check-up on me every few minutes.

 

Groaning dramatically, hands tousling my hair, I could feel my motivation go down the drain. “What’s the fucking point… I’m not even in this class, and I can’t grasp Relative Velocity for shit.” Having a mini-breakdown inside, I released a nervous laugh, trying to mask my disappointment. “Maybe if I practiced harder for the test, I would have passed.”

 

Pidge’s seat twirled around towards me, a total 180-degree change in less than a second. “Lance, that wasn’t your fault. Zoe was sick, and you had to step in for your mom. Please don’t think like that,” their town gradually became more brash, making it appear more stern than possible. “Plus, Physics sucks ass. You have a way-better shot in History, anyways. All History teachers are old and grouchy, like Mr. Steinbach.”

 

“Yeah, but it’s because I’m only good at languages and retaining in all the shit white people have ruined in the past.”

 

“Frankly, I don’t care about why you’re able to be fucking great at languages. It makes me envious. Also, you need to pick out another song, because I’m about to play _Passion Pit_ again.”

 

“Fine, fine, give me your iPhone.” Scrolling through their annoyingly-long playlist, a specific song popped out, because it’s the only one of the band’s songs that I truly enjoy. “Play _Death Cab for Cutie’s_ cover of ‘Love Song,’ you know that’s such a Hipster-Tumblr-aesthetic coffee song.”

 

_Ah, there’s that antagonizing glare again._

 

The two songs faded into each other, calmly transitioning the moods. And if I had to be honest, I just needed something to keep stimulating my drive to study for a class I’m not enrolled in. I’ve been keeping my attention locked on the book for the past two-days, once I completed my exams. It was an excuse to detach from reality, because it’s been an emotionally-taxing week. The reason behind that starts with a big **K**.

 

“You know, you should probably go home today,” Pidge’s hand ruffled my hair, giggling a bit once they saw my droopy-eyed, disgruntled expression. “You worked hard on studying for your own exams, you don’t need to study Physics every hour you have before classes start again. Plus, you could be at home, spending time with your cats and rage-writing. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

 

“Not really...”

 

 The line was shortening at a faster pace, hinting that the shop would be quite empty after the herd leaves. But, the only thing I had on my mind was Physics, and Keith. Fucking Keith, every hour I am awake.

 

Feelings always came and went, but this was different. The permanent pit in my stomach, waves of both doubt and hope crashing into each other… the feeling of having a crush like this was new to me. I don’t want to be scared of liking him, but I am, and there’s a part of me that always contradicts the statement of being scared to trust.

 

That I’m too terrified of trusting because I’ve been hurt before.

 

But deep down, I _do_ have trust in Keith if I developed a crush on him.

 

He’s out of my league, and quite frankly, not the typical person I pine after. Keith Kogane, the Physics Prodigy, the one who un-ironically enjoys _My Chemical Romance_ , the boy who likes ice cream better than cake. The one who has an abysmal mullet that I fucking _dig_ in a ponytail. Keith, who undeniably has effortless beauty.

 

Hunk’s textbook had a sticky note attached to the page I was reading, handwriting that did not resemble anyone’s that I know. _Did he finally find a study partner_?  I couldn’t turn my eyes away from the stickies – the mystery-person’s notes were meticulously written, and the style of their handwriting was appealing, with small lettering and narrow spaces. Damn, my letters just look like chicken scratch…

 

“KEITH!”

 

My head turned towards the direction of the scream faster than the speed of light.

 

Hunk’s waving from the counter, Keith shocked by the sudden outburst. Fuck, _he looks so good today… wait,_ Lance _, you’re supposed to be cramming_.

 

 

Keith’s lips slowly lifted into an awkward-half smile, “Hey, Hunk. You’re working again today?”

 

I couldn’t hold myself back: I eavesdropped on their whole conversation. Since Pidge and I were both loitering around in the room behind the workspace, the majority of the conversation was clear. It started with Hunk’s usual flattery, then Keith’s order, the Physics exam results, how Hunk thought Keith’s (tacky) biker jacket with cherry-red lines was cool… it flowed surprisingly well. My stomach churned at the thought of that.

 

“So… is Lance here? I kind of have… something to talk about.” Behind the tiny crack of the door, I could barely see him, but Keith’s right hand was scratching nervously under his hair, avoiding Hunk’s overly-friendly eyes. Which probably were twinkling with elation from the words he just heard. I know him too well.

 

And, once Hunk suggestively pointed his thumb to the door behind him, my whole body shuddered, anxiety crashing over like a wave of a tsunami. Keith’s footsteps overpowered the blaring music, my breaths becoming more heavy. Shit, not good. _Not good_. Pidge tiptoed out from the room, using the security exit. Fucking hell, **don’t** leave us alone, Pidge! This is the only time I’ll _ever_ ask you to do that, I swear!

 

Keith nonchalantly leaned against the doorframe, some strands of hair flopping down on his forehead. Stop looking so damn attractive all the time, for Christ’s sake. “What are you reading?”

 

His voice was more gentle on the ears than I remember. Gently swallowing, I held up the textbook in one hand, trembling a bit in the process. “Using Hunk’s textbook to study Physics.”

 

“Aren’t you a History major, though?”

 

“Um…” Shoving the book aside, I displayed a fake smirk to dodge the question, acting ‘cocky’ again. “So, you came here for me? Couldn’t contain your excitement?” A bit of a blush developed on Keith’s face, his lips failing at forming words.

 

Finishing the third cup of coffee, I stood up, and gracefully tossed it into the trash. Keith repositioned himself, standing taller. “I didn’t come here just for you.”

 

“Prove it.” Tapping on his nose, I got his full, undivided attention, a feat I never figured was possible. Flashing a mischievous grin while passing him by, I witnessed in the corner of my eyes that his mouth was covered by his hands, fingers spreading out on his flushed cheeks. Take that, hot-emo bastard.

 

Time for a fourth cup of coffee, and subtly flirting with Keith.

 

\--

 

Fingers tapping lightly on my frigid coffee cup, I was working eminently hard to not trigger another touchy subject, a hefty silence taking over the two of us. My gaze was completely focused on Keith’s hair, which dispersed in crazy directions after laying his head on his arms. As much as he appeared tranquil, something in the atmosphere around us was peculiar. Was something wrong? Why was I too frightened to ask?

 

“What’s the name of this song?”

 

Keith’s eyes drowsily batted, my mouth gaping at the sight. His head was propped-up a little higher than before, the bridge of his nose slightly emerging from under the forearms. I’ll pretend that Keith was **not** exceedingly adorable.

 

“Uh, the one playing? It’s called ‘She’s Casual’ by _The Hunna_. Allura really enjoys this band.” Why am I bringing up other people when it’s just the two of us?

 

“Eh, is that so…” Fucking fuck, _fuck… I destroyed the whole world of possible routes that the discussion could go on. Again. What should I do…_ “I think it’s a cool song. Reminds me of you.”

 

My breath hitched, ogling at his cheeky expression. Did he understand the lyrics? It’s not a ‘cool’ song, it’s about hooking up. Oh God, does he _remember_? Or is he just clueless? Please, I don’t think I’ll be able to live with myself after that night. It’s been plaguing my mind and there’s no cure to erase it – Keith has taken over most of my thoughts, and as much as it pained my heart, it felt like a high I could never come off of… similar to the tense-but-ecstatic anticipation someone experiences before the drop of a rollercoaster.

 

“Um, I actually have a favor to ask… it’s kind of embarrassing, but important.” The shakes were excruciatingly evident, captivating my utmost attention. I nodded for him to continue. “So, there’s this wedding going on for a childhood friend of mine, and I really don’t want to be alone… I mean, nobody that I know is going to be there. Um, would you mind coming along with me?” Here’s my chance, I’ve been bestowed a gift of endless opportunities. “Ah, only if you want to, I’m not going to force it- “

 

“Keith,” My hand cupped the edge of his face before I knew they moved, but I could care less. “You don’t need to worry, of course I’ll be there. It’ll probably be one hell of a wedding, anyways. When is it?”

 

His face lit up, a small smile forming as his cheek leaned closer into my hand. Shit, did he look more beautiful than all the stars in the sky. _Here we go, flustered again by his appearance. Please hold yourself back_. “It’s on the first of July… hopefully this was enough time in advance?” **_That’s only two and a half weeks away_**.

 

\--

 

“AM I MORE THAN YOU BARGAINED FOR YET?” Screaming the lyrics to one of the few _Fall Out Boy_ songs I truly enjoy with Pidge and Hunk made the drive through traffic worth it, heading to the airport to meet up with Keith. The past week was utter torture, dragging on as slow as possible. Only the moments spent with the squad made the painfully-long wait worth it.

 

JFK Airport was clearly coming into my vision, as Hunk’s squeal covered up the eerie sounds of driving on shitty streets. If New York could win an award, it would be for having the most absolutely-atrocious roads possible. Without traffic, the car insanely vibrates your whole body from the numerous bumps and trash on the street, and since my flight was at eleven, the experience was in full-force.

 

As much as “Sugar, We're Going Down” was an angsty song, my childish exhilaration for the trip was coating up the connotation of the lyrics. The closer we got to the airport, the more intense my feelings became.

 

“We’re here, fuckboy,” Pidge slapped their can of soda on my head to add emphasis, which I responded to by just rolling my eyes. Hopefully the smile I felt twitching on my lips wasn’t forming.

 

Clutching onto the strap of my carry-on backpack, I exited the car, Hunk offering to help carry my stuff but I refused. The second bag, which was an old-duffle bag my _abuela_ bought me, was half-packed, carrying the necessities for the trip: clothes, shoes, and a blanket smoothed out on the bottom. Hotel comforters are not very… _comfortable_. The thought of the sheets made me shudder, and before I realized it, I was attacked by Pidge’s hug, Hunk following after.

 

I caved in, embracing them back, even if I was lifted up from the ground a few times. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Send me memes whenever, though. I’m always down for them. Also I’ll text you guys when we land, okay?” Letting go of the boisterous duo, I found my hand on the bag’s strap again, slightly waving while walking off. And we made our farewells to each other, being more dramatic than Soraya Montenegro.

 

My phone vibrated about a minute after leaving, startling me at the quick response. Who the fuck messages somebody within the minute they just left-?

 

 **KEITH** : I think I see you.

 

 _Never mind_.

 

Moving my head back and forth, I was examining nearby for the sight of any horrible mullet, wondering where he _may_ have seen me. I haven’t even made it through security yet, and there was no way he could be hiding-

 

“Watch your step, my **왕자 (** **Prince)**.”

 

Embarrassingly, I back-stepped into Keith, almost making both of us topple over. His hands were wrapped around my waist, stabilizing both our frames. When I turned my head to gaze behind me, I realized why I couldn’t find him. His hair was tucked under a black-and-white knitted Neff beanie. My heave couldn’t hold back longer, and once it escaped out, Keith crooked his head to the side. _Since when did this emo boy develop_ some _taste in fashion_? Besides his ever-endearing beanie (wear it forever, thanks), his baggy sweater wasn’t too bad: it was another pop punk one, but not too shabby… and some skinny jeans – _holy_ shit _is that a fucking_ **alien** _stitched on the left knee_?

 

Keith’s focus traveled down to where I was staring, an uneasy laughter flowing through my eardrums. “Ah, um, Hunk told me in advance that I should buy new clothes if I didn’t want you to be embarrassed. Thought the alien was kind of cute.”

 

‘ _’You’re_ kind of cute,” I blurted, instantly reddening. His eyes probably were on the verge of popping out of his head, fingers fiddling with the hem of his sleeves. “Um, the look isn’t b-bad though. You just look like a Hot Topic fever dream, and it doesn’t really match well, but still pretty good.”

 

“To be honest, the only thing not from Hot Topic is the beanie.”

 

“Fucking leave.”

 

A ridiculously-massive herd of people were on the verge of entering, so Keith handed my ticket to me, and we sped-walked through security _. Impatience was something that we have in common, I’ll store that for future reference_. The ticket’s destination said that we’d arrive about fifteen minutes short of three hours, and that it’s in Orlando. As much as I hated where we lived in Florida, I’m pulling through for Keith. Especially because he doesn’t know what happened down there in tenth grade.

 

Before I came to my senses, a Starbucks came into my vision, the alluring aroma of coffee beckoned me to waste my precious money. As much as Hunk’s coffee shop serves delicious and affordable drinks… Starbucks will always have a place in my heart. Most likely due to the fact that there is so much sugar, my mind has a figurative-high from it. Keith seemed to grasp my unquenchable desire for coffee, so he explained which terminal we’re in and we split ways.

 

The jeans he had on were undoubtedly skintight, but they accentuated the curve of his ass. You could say… his ass was _out of this world_.

 

Mentally beating myself for making the corniest joke of my whole life (which made the others pale in comparison), I tried to ward off any possible thoughts that could connect back to Keith, and solely concentrated on my order. _Let’s minimize the awkward encounters this time,_ Lance _, for the sake of your own sanity_.

 

\--

 

“Oi, Keith, I wasn’t sure if you preferred cookies or pastries, so I just got a coffee. Sorry- “

 

Keith was dozing off on the cramped-up chair, head bobbing up and down with every slight breath. It was priceless, and not only did I take three photos of him sleeping, I also made the best one become his contact photo. He’s gorgeous even when he’s asleep, huh…

 

Woah.

 

The intense clutch on my coffee eventually resulted in a plethora of dents in the plastic, glaring down at my shoes. Panic struck me down in a matter of seconds, because this time it wasn’t funny. The context behind the thoughts of Keith was not easy to brush off, because I secluded them for only me to comprehend. No back-handed response was possible to excuse the way I enjoyed how utterly cute he is. The way his slightly-crooked and opened mouth would whistle gently while sleeping, the way his hands convulsed every so often, the way-too-large sleeves being tugged down unconsciously... it was impossible to deny my feelings any further.

 

I, Lance Sanchez, was absolutely, terrifyingly, definitely enchanted by Keith Kogane.

 

\--

 

** KINKY SPACE NUNS **

 

 **#DAD:** how’s the flight going?

 

 **caBROn** : UGH DAD STILL HAVE HALF AN HOUR LEFT AND I AM     D Y I N G

 **caBROn** : KEITH IS LITERALLY SLEEPING ON MY FCKUNG SHOULDER AND I FEEL LIKE MY ASS HAS BEEN JABBED BY A THOUSAND YEARS OF PAIN

 

 **Hunky Man** : StoP WITH THE NARUTO REFERENCES LANCE SIGH

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** frfr even THOUGH I don’t like him, he prob trusts you enough to sleep on you. Which is kind of cute. Like the stereotypical shoujo-manga scene, except this is shounen-ai… or yaoi? You can make it yaoi

 **Pidgey CP 45** : BUT i dont like keith

 

 **#DAD** : are you going to tell him what happened?

 **#DAD** : by the way, where’s your flight to? you never told us.

 

 **caBROn** : ummm

 **caBROn** : basically

 **caBROn** : you will def be pissed if I toLD YOU SO IT MUST WAIT BYEEEE

 

 **Hunky Man:** Lance come ON what are you going to do if you get arrested and need someone to bail you out

 **Hunky Man** : omfg what if keith is secretly a murderer LANCE GET OUT OF THERE

 

 **#DAD:** Hunk I’m 99% sure Keith is not a murderer. Also Lance you need to tell us before we worry

 

 **caBROn** : I am FINE please do not fret smol child

 **caBROn** : ughghhhh that was so taboo to send that to dad

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : when will the gay come back from war

 

 **Allurduh:** send nudes if you’re hooking up (for art)

 

 **#DAD:** Allura!

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

 **Pidgey CP 45:** I already saw that

**Hunky Man:** Wait

 

 **Allurduh:** EXCUSE ME

 

 **#DAD:** PIDGE

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** YEAH DIDN’T LANCE TELL YOU GUYS

 **Pidgey CP 45:** they so totally made THE FUCK OUT when watching Stranger Things and I FaceTimed them and I heard and SAW them kiss

 **Pidgey CP 45** : but it all changed after the fire nation attacked

 **Pidgey CP 45** : aka @keithfucker

 **Pidgey CP 45:** blew up and left the scene did so much damage rip in pieces

 

 **#DAD:** Pidge that was rude of you to tell what happened without Lance’s approval

 

 **caBROn:** thanks

 **caBROn:** gonna go jump out the window now

 

 **Hunky Man:** is that why you were locked up in your room

 

 **CaBROn:** can we please not talk about this, especially rn

 **CaBROn:** having a crisis about this head on my shoulder so ByE

 

 **Allurduh:** omfg

 **Allurduh** : lance once you come back you need to tell me everything I need inspiration to write about this

 

 **Hunky Man** : UGH

 

\--

 

“Get your ass out of my face.”

 

“Why, I thought you liked my ass.”

 

Leaving the plane was more of a problem than getting on. My bag was shoved against some brusque, old lady’s, who had to get their first despite her luggage behind my own. Keith was bending down to avoid hitting his head on the headlights of the plane above him, and while I was struggling to get my hands on the duffle-bag, his cheek brushed against the pair of my own – and sadly, not the ones on my face.

 

“Why, I though you liked my ass,” I cheekily stated, a bit too loud for my liking. The ancient-lady was immediately skeeved out, lounging back in her seat after a display of horrified expressions were on her wrinkly face. Guess that settles that. Bi-boy: 1 point.

 

Hustling to the front of the line, the first-seven rows ahead of us evacuated from the plane, and we followed **soon** after (what felt like seven hours). More Starbucks and Tumblr-ish cafes were scattered across the place, not leaving many valid options for somewhere to stop by in a hurry.

 

Keith nudged my side, causing me to squint at him with figurative lasers pointing at his heart. _That hurt, you bastard_. “Listen, that old woman has been sending us daggers since that outburst before. We should play along.” My eyebrows rose in surprise from the proclamation, but my wicked-side overpowered any trace of fear within me. So, I looped my arms into his, lovingly signaling for him to place his head on my shoulders. “Oh, honey, you’re too kind~” Keith accepted the invitation.

 

“¿Hace calor aqui, o es apenas usted _? (Is it hot in here, or is it just you?)”_ Purring on the last few syllables, Keith’s eyes rolled, sticking out his tongue. My cheesy pick-up line wasn’t making as permanent of a reaction that I was hoping for from the lady, so I decided to take it up a notch higher. Leaning into his face, I planted a peck on his forehead, grinning madly. “Save the tongue for later, we’re in **public** , Mi tesoro. Eres _muy_ sexy. ( _My treasure. You’re very sexy_.)”

 

I couldn’t determine if Keith’s or the woman’s reaction was better, but I relished in the fact that both of them were appalled by the statement. The lady gasped in horror, speeding up her pace and eventually passed us by. My giggles were uncontrollable, and Keith lowered his head, torn between being embarrassed and wanting to laugh.

 

 _Mission completed_.

 

\--

 

_“…Casual, she likes it…”_

Keith’s mumbling distracted me more than it should have, particularly making my attention center-in on his lips. Each time he hummed, they would quiver ever so gently, the scattered-cracks becoming more prominent when murmuring the beat of the song.

 

Half of me craved his harsh kiss once more, the other half wanting to watch him for eternity.

 

Every so often, when he thought I was asleep (or so I presumed) in the taxi, he would peer over at me, remnants of a blush coloring his face. His sweater emphasized the pigment of his cheeks, and _fuck_ , my mind was flooded with salacious ideas. The suggestive lyrics were augmenting the quantity of Keith-related dreams in my mind, too.

 

 _Save me, what have I done wrong to deserve this cruel punishment_ …

 

 

The Courtyard Orlando Downtown hotel was coming closer in vicinity, and the taxi abruptly stopped before I knew it. My body moved on its own, but my awareness was locked inside the darkest caves of my mind. Keith’s jeans have been gradually killing me since the security-accident, and not merely because they were ** _low-key gaudy._** Despite how loaded my backpack was, my consciousness wasn’t paying any attention to it. _Who cares if my shoulders become dislodged? This emo boy’s ass is all I care about and nothing’s going to stop me from thinking about how plump it is_.

 

My absent-minded state was suddenly shattered by Keith’s vociferous gasp.

 

“What do you mean? I booked a double-room!”

 

_Huh?_

 

“Sorry, sir, there must have been a glitch… would it be a problem?” The desk-lady, who roughly was around the same age as us, was panicking tremendously.

 

I hated seeing someone fret in front of me.

 

“Um!” Quickly waving my hands back and forth, I tried my best to calm the two down, worried a commotion would build up at this late hour. “It’s okay, my… my **_boyfriend_** and I wouldn’t mind.” A sudden look of relaxation overcame the lady’s ‘neutral’ stance, softly smiling at me. _Don’t worry, it’s understandable. Been there, done that. Please don’t worry_. “Right, Keith?” Behind my grin, I was shooting multiple ‘ _don’t fuck this up, Keith, or I’ll end you’_ vibes in his direction. Thankfully, he grasped the situation, and played along.

 

Another mishap. Should I consider myself lucky, or cursed?

 

We got two separate room keys, and continued the act of lovers until the elevator. _Not that I would have mind if it lasted forever_ … oops.

 

“Sorry…” Keith sighed, leaning back on the elevator’s ramp. His eyes were permanently locked on the roof, although he sounded like there was more words left unsaid. I remained silent, wondering why Keith had the urge to apologize. “If I knew this would happen, I would have booked another hotel room-“

 

“ _Keith_.”

 

Grabbing his hands, I tightly squeezed them, sternly staring at him. “It’s fine. The lady felt bad enough for the mistake, and I’ve been told I’m a pretty decent snuggle-buddy.” Showcasing my best cheesy beam, I kept my gaze on Keith, waiting for him to crack. His bottom lip was sucked in, clearly being nibbled on his teeth. _Shit. Laugh before I lose my sanity again today_.

 

His voice was cut off by the elevator beeping, signaling that we arrived at our floor. Awkward.

 

Once Keith and I unlocked the door, we immediately dropped our bags, and plopped down on the bed. Within one minute, the sides of the bed were claimed: the left was mine, where the charger was. Sneaky, yes, but dutifully so.

 

Keith squirmed closer to where I was, evocatively eyeing me down. _Please don’t make attractive faces at two in the goddamn morning_. No matter how many silent pleas I made, his curious expression was triggering electric shocks in my gut. Why would he be making that face?

 

A pillow flopped over my head, as a string of profanities erupted from my mouth.

 

“KEITH!” Throwing the pillow across the room, I furiously searched for him, but he was making a run for the bathroom. “Not on _my_ watch, mullet boy.” His gulp was audible enough to turn on my hyper-side: I sprung off the bed, darted to the door, and lightly kicked it open. “It’s on, asswipe.”

 

Keith pointed a bottle of shampoo towards my face. “Asswipe? _Really_?”

 

“Fight me, mullet.”

 

“Why don’t you come here and _make me_ , 미친년 (Crazy Bitch)?”

 

Consecutive jolts of lust were exploding inside of me, along with my competitive spirit. _You’re going to wish you didn’t say that_.

 

Tackling Keith to the floor, his eyes considerably dilated and darkened, while my hands held back his own. I sent a remorseless-victory grin his way, my pulse speeding up every second. His chest was rampantly going up and down, a flush emerging around his clavicles. _Shit_. My eyes were wandering across his whole body, taking in the scene before it was too late. The belt of freckles near his chest, a pale scar behind his left ear, his almost-closed earring holes.

 

_There was a whole world of things I didn’t know about Keith, and as much as it was distressing, the mysterious atmosphere of him was titillating, enthralling, magnetic…_

 

His legs forcefully wrapped against my torso, and flipped my whole body over before I could restrain him. Even though I always preferred being on top, it was severely alluring to be dominated by Keith. _Keith_. And I’ll be damned if I didn’t admit so – once his eyes traveled up-and-down my face, I was long gone.

 

“Keith… please.”

 

“Please _what_?” His breathy comment struck like lightning, blessing me with a full-force smirk. It may as well have been the sexiest look I’ve ever witnessed.

 

“Fuc- “

 

The bottle of shampoo placed on the counter toppled over, hitting Keith in the head, then Keith bumping his forehead on my own.

 

Pained groans filled the bathroom, as he scooted off of me. “Fuck!” _Another opportunity wasted_.

 

\--

 

Forces more powerful than I was had it out for me. I swear.

 

How many times has it been that we’ve been interrupted? Quite frankly, it would be an understatement to just say that I was pissed. The feeling was way too intense to be summed up by ‘pissed.’ I was fuming. My rage would singlehandedly be enough to initiate a fire.

 

Cold bottles of water served as our icepacks in an attempt to lessen the aching bumps we formed from the stupid shampoo incident, but it was impossible to cool down my _burning hatred_.

 

The past fifteen minutes passed with no sounds coming from either one of us, although I wanted _nothing more_ than to **attack** him and make out until we **die** from asphyxiation. It was a new form of torture; a punishment even deemed ‘too evil’ for death row inmates.

 

My desire was isolated from reality.

 

The sudden noise from the TV made my body shudder, and Keith’s concerned expression made the surprise all the more humiliating.

 

“Um… uh, I’m alright. It just happened too quickly...?” Nervous bands of laughter followed my absolutely pointless announcement, but settled down Keith’s inquisitive glare. “Soooo…”

 

“난 당신을 키스하고 싶어요 (I want to kiss you).”

 

The frenzied comment dissolved the uneasy ambience of the room, Keith’s eyes pleading with all their might. His face was trailing near dangerous territory, since my rationality dropped into the negatives. _Where the hell did that come from_?

 

“What… what are we?” Awkwardly smiling to slow down the pace, the hairs on my body were standing up, electrocuted by the tense situation. “I-I mean, as much as I think you’re hot as hell and everything, I’m a bit confused.”

 

Keith’s arms lunged forward and engulfed my body, his overwhelming movements dragging out numerous puffs from me. His panting brought shivers down the entirety of my physique, lowering his mouth to my neck excruciatingly-slow. Before he reached any skin, his eyes traveled upwards to meet mine, silently asking for my permission.

 

He truly didn’t need to, as I was on the brink of caving in to my libido, but the thought left a passionate imprint on my heart.

 

Streams of aggressive pecks were planted on my neck, gingerly descending down to my chest. With each kiss, more pressure was applied, and my mind went completely bonkers. Each touch drove me mad, tightening my clutch on his hips as I lost my balance. Keith’s lips were playfully brushing against my collarbones, watching my multitude of expressions with a deadly, amorous glint in his eyes. Once his lips were no longer grazing my skin, I released a whimper, my arousal getting the best of me. His teeth dug into my skin, resulting in a raspy yelp of surprise from me.

 

**_“¿ Te gusta eso?” _ **

 

 

My heart stopped, paralyzed by the gruffness of Keith’s voice. The fact that he _fucking_ just spoke _Spanish_ to me…

 

Gritting my teeth, my hips buckled up from excitement, unable to control myself. “Más, más, por favor…” Keith’s right hand tugged on my pants, eyes glazing over. _Do it, please_. 

 

“You know… I’m a bit of a tease.” His fingers kept twiddling with the band of my boxers, cockily tilting his head up to glance down at my writhing. Opening my eyes wearily, his sadistic expression did _wonders_ for me. “Do you think about me like I think about you, Lance?” Keith’s legs straddled me, not helping my situation at all. “You’ve been on my mind too much lately, it’s quite bothersome…” His left hand guided my right to his lips, sucking on one of my fingers. _Holy shit, I can’t do this_. Just his eyes intensely staring me down was enough to turn me on unlike ever before, my rage from before transformed into hardcore lust. With his index spiraling circles near my pelvis, my lungs were decaying from every movement – Keith Kogane took my breath away.

 

“ _Scream_ _for me_ , **_papi_**.”

The boundary was crossed once his hand started messing around under my boxers, hissing at the contact.

 

“Faster.”

 

His grip tightened, but stopped moving. “What’s the magic word?”

 

Croaking from the hoarseness of his tone, I twitched, carried away by his words.

“ _Please_.”

 

\--

 _What the fuck just happened_?

 

Waking up from my disillusioned state, I squinted at the back of Keith’s mullet. When did we even start spooning?

 

I need a break.

 

Sitting up, a throbbing pain was sent throughout both of my thighs, grunting at the agony. _Too rough_.

 

Keith sleepily rolled over, blinking multiple times. His ~~dreamy~~ drowsy gaze startled me, as he repositioned himself, sitting in a half-up stance. _Cute_. His hand was coming up to rub his eyes, before he halted, staring questioningly at the palm.

 

A few seconds later, it registered.

 

**“WHY THE FUCK IS THERE CUM ON MY HAND?”**

 

Jumping from the bed, his horrified yells erased any trace of sleepiness within me, jittery from the fact that we passed _out right after I climaxed_. Keith bee-lined for the bathroom, vigorously scrubbing his hands. “Oh my God, this is so _disgusting_!”

 

I wanted to die.

 

\--

 

** KINKY SPACE NUNS **

 

 **#DAD:** it’s way too early for memes pidge

**caBROn** : OH forgot to send a text to you guys, we’re here and completely safe

 **caBROn** : pls don’t kill me I was busy

 

 **Hunky Man** : LANCE

 

 **#DAD** : Thank you for finally sending something, I almost hired the FBI to track you down

 

 **caBROn** : it’s gucci mane up in here

 **caBROn** : noooooo worries

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : so why were you busy huh

 **Pidgey CP 45** : I thought #squad always came first

 **Pidgey CP 45** : ya cheatin on me

 

 **Hunky Man** : yeah man pidge is right (for once ((don’t kill me)) they are)

 **Hunky Man** : what happened bud

 

 **caBROn** : um

 

 **#DAD:** guys that’s lance’s private life

 

 **caBROn** : lemme just tell you it was FUCKING INSANE

 **caBROn** : I think I have a new kink

 

 **Hunky Man:** oh no

 

 **#DAD:** crap please delete this before allura comes in

 

 **Allurduh** : PARDON ME I’VE BEEN HERE THE WHOLE TIME

 **Allurduh** : LANCE WHAT HAPPENED GIVE THE DEETS WHY DIDN’T YOU SEND PHOTOS OR VIDEOS OF WHAT WENT DOWN

 **Allurduh** : I THOUGHT WE WERE RIDE OR DIE FAM

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** ANOTHER INCIDENT HUH

 

 **Allurduh** : TELLMEEEEE TELLMeeeEEEeee

 

 **caBROn** : I think I like to be dominated

 

 **Allurduh** : OMG

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : oh my fucking GOD

 

 **Hunky Man** : I don’t need to hear this

 

 **#DAD:** lance please stop

 **#DAD:** I really don’t need to hear your sexual pursuits again

 

 **Allurduh** : SO YOU’RE A BOTTOM KYAAAAA

 

 **caBROn** : AM NOT TF 

 **caBROn** : PLUS IF IW AS I’D BE A POWER BOTTOM PLS EXCUSE YOURSELF

 

 **Hunky Man** : LANCE STOP PLEASE

 **Hunky Man** : STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP

 **Hunky Man** : my virgin eyes

**Pidgey CP 45** : boi your virgin eyes have long been gone since 10th grade don’t you remember

 **Pidgey CP 45** : but lets not Talk about thATT IM MORE INTERESTED IN WHAT HAPPENED RIGHT ALLURA

 

 **Allurduh** : HELL YEAH

 

 **caBROn** : wait when did my love life become everyone’s favorite topic to talk about

 

 **Hunky Man** : middle school

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** middle school

 

 **#DAD** : when we met

 

 **Allurduh** : since forever

 

 **caBROn:** I’m getting a restraining order against all of you

 

 

 

 

Keith waved his hand in my face, stealing my attention from the group chat. “Um, would you mind if I borrowed your army jacket? It’s going to rain, and unfortunately there’s no umbrella in here…” He’s so adorable when he rambles. “If-if you don’t mind, that is.”

 

“Take it,” I stated, gently placing his arms through it. “I have another hoodie, plus, you look cute in my clothes. Like a boyfriend.” _Fuck, I said that out loud_.

 

His hands idly played with the too-long sleeves, and I noted that it’s most likely a habit. After a few moments of silence, a tiny smile was playing on his lips. “Thank you.” **_DEATH BLOW_**. After literally slaughtering me, Keith nonchalantly walked off, grabbing his wallet from the coffee table.

 

Distraught, I placed my hand over my heart, hoping for it to calm down.

**I’m in too deep.**

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UGHHHWAAAAHHHH I LOVE THEM SO MUCH PLEASE END MY SUFFERING!!!!1!  
> set up the stage for angst too so i am extremely prepared to write some DEADLY EMO CHAPTERS soon (cough LANCE cough)
> 
> lmao yaoi destroyed my innocence bc 2 years ago i couldn't even write a kiss for shit now look where we are. started from the bottom now we're here  
> references for KEITH'S WHOLE EMO OUTFIT WHAT A N ERD:
> 
> http://www.nativeskatestore.co.uk/skate-clothing-c9/beanies-c59/neff-fold-heather-beanie-black-white-p11262  
> http://www.hottopic.com/product/neck-deep-arrows-logo-crew-pullover/10418194.html?cgid=guys-hoodies-sweaters#sz=120&start=132  
> http://www.hottopic.com/product/tyler-carter-destructed-alien-patch-skinny-jeans/10606636.html?cgid=guys-jeans#start=6


	6. SIX: Song to Say Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Angst, abuse/sexual abuse, Anxiety 
> 
> angst hits hella hard and its not funny and if it's kind of fast-paced i apologize???? school's starting soon so i'm a bit frazzled lmao but here we gO I'VE BEEN WAITING TO WRITE THIS TO VENT AND EVERYTHING BUT HOPEFULLY IT WASN'T TOO UPSETTING OML (ft a sneak peak into lance's anxiety bc this is how i tend to experience my own when it's extremely heightened). ftft i have to update the tags to warn readers too & i apologize im still new to AO3 whoops. this summary is too long

“ _Lance_ , I’m telling you, there’s a much larger possibility that aliens are real instead of a centaur. Mythology can’t be proved, but astronomy can.”

 

Keith kept proving his point, the two of us bickering on what would be more realistic.

 

“As much as aliens are fucking cool, you can’t tell that centaurs didn’t exist. I mean, Leonardo da Vinci didn’t know dinosaurs were even a **thing** his whole life… but they _were_.”

 

Squinting me down, Keith snorted after an intense showdown, as I refused to blink while he watched. “Fine, your point is valid, but that’s just because you’re way too stubborn to say that you’re in the wrong.”

 

“Because I’m not.”

 

“Mhmmmmm…”

 

The Orlando Outlets was not as filled with shoppers as I remembered them to be, a sign of good luck. _Smaller crowds significantly lessen the chances of my anxiety settling in. I’m blessed once again_. The shops appeared almost the same as the last time I visited Orlando, when Mariana, Finn, Bianca and I were hunting down decent Christmas gifts for _mama_.

 

Needless to say, that was one of the best Christmas gift-giving exchanges we had my whole life.

 

Pacsun was luring me towards their clothes, and I figured – why not buy clothes for the both of us? Lord knows Keith needs a drastic fashion change, because those retro-emo outfits are not doing him, or anybody, justice.

 

Delicately, I wrapped my palm around Keith’s wrist, a look of confusion on his face. _It’s a surprise, you cute, emo dumbass_. The specific-stale smell of the store brought back a wave of nostalgia, reliving my first shopping experience with Pidge once they came out, or when Hunk was having a difficult time finding shoes that fit, but also did not look hideous or bland. That was prior to everything becoming absolute _shit_ in tenth grade: I hold the memories dear to my heart.

 

“ ** _A lover on the left, a sinner on the right_** …”

 

The song almost made me freeze in the middle of the store, having a very peculiar memory attached to the meaning. Even though a handful of _Panic! At The Disco’s_ tracks were actually tolerable…

 

I _hated_ this song.

 

Warmth radiated from Keith’s wrist, slightly lessening the agony from remembering that damaging, painful incident. Hiding behind a false display of excitement, I lead him to the section in the back of the store, where the massive **CLEARANCE** sign was.

 

He resembled a lost deer once I asked for his size.

 

Scanning through the piles of clothes, I snatched whatever nice-yet-cheap mediums there was, preparing to spend at least $200.

 

“You’re lucky, because unlike New York, Florida has somewhat-lesser prices. Even though we’re in a city, it’s pretty damn cheap.” Side-eyeing Keith, I gave him a reassuring thumbs-up and a free wink, causing him to avoid my gaze. “Still, this is just for you. I have to find some stuff for my own aesthetics.”

 

“You actually _unironically_ use the word ‘aesthetic,’ don’t you?”

 

Hostilely staring Keith down, I dumped the abundance of shirts and jeans in his arms, sassily waving him off to go try them on. Nobody insults my aesthetic, even if it’s Keith. _Nobody_ is allowed to.

 

Especially now, since the two of us are around the same height and size, we’ll start sharing clothes. Which means sharing the _aesthetic_. I’m living my high school dreams now, because I’ve always been too gigantic for Pidge’s wardrobe, and too scrawny for Hunk’s.

 

“Lance?”

 

“Hmmm?”

 

“Um, I’m not sure if this shirt is really… _me_?”

 

The Santa Cruz sweater, and charcoal-gray Chinos? A masterpiece. All of Leonardo da Vinci’s works could not even brush upon the plane of beauty this guy was on. Whether he was wearing hipster clothes, emo fashion, retro… Keith’s appeal never ceased to amaze me. The entire look was giving a _Tame Impala_ vibe – it fucking **wrecked** me.

 

Flabbergasted, I leaned on the wall for support, my legs giving in. Nobody should be able to achieve that high of a level in attractiveness. I’m going to be slaughtered again by this hot shithead. “N-no, it looks really hot – I mean, it looks great. Wear it forever. Thanks.”

 

Trudging away from the flushed-red boy, I looked around for another worker, needing the door to be unlocked. A fairly-tall guy with white hair was nearby, and I swallowed down my anxiety. “Um, excuse me? I need a room to try stuff on- “

 

“Lance?”

 

My mouth dropped wide open, not believing my vision. Is that… _Rolo_? Rolo from middle school?”

 

Rolo playfully punched my shoulder, his fuckboy grin never disappearing. “Ah, dude, what’s up? Haven’t seen you since graduation! Never expected you to visit Orlando, you checking out UCF?”

 

Get me out of here.

 

“Um… I’m here for a wedding.”

 

His bony fingers swung his keys insanely fast, beckoning me to follow him. “Yeah, the number of weddings happening here are crazy. One of my friends from Economics is having one soon, but I wasn’t invited.” Rolo’s infamous cackle cursed my ears, sounding like shards of glass flying through my head. “Prob because the husband and I had a threesome without her.” Too much information. “Anyways, I’ll give you guys a discount. Weddings are fucking stressful, and you’re an old member of our squad who desperately needs new clothes.”

 

“Rolo, thank you, but you really don’t need to- “

 

“Isn’t your family situation still pretty damn tough? Don’t worry, hormonal thirteen-year-olds will flock in soon, it’ll be fine to cut ya’ some slack.” His friendly slap stung like a hornet’s bite, shoving me inside a dressing cubicle. “Go get changed, dickweed.”

 

Softly nodding, I locked the door, slumping down on the mirror. Of all people, I run into Rolo, who knows what happened in 10th grade. Maybe my good karma is finally empty, or maybe this is part of a twisted game. _He helped release Hunk from juvie after the accident_ …

 

Banging my head, I shook out any thoughts of the past from my mind, and focused solely on trying on the clothes.

 

\--

 

“Keith, you really shouldn’t have paid for all of that…” I stopped Keith from going ahead, a few feet behind the store. “I feel completely guilty, and that was a lot of fucking money – “

 

His fingers bopped my forehead, an almost-inaudible gasp coming from me. “Consider it compensation for your birthday.”

 

Sighing, I caved in to his pampering, hyper-aware of the fact that Keith has _money_ to spend. The two of us keep becoming more different with every new discovery made about the other person, and it makes me feel… lonely, in a way. It wasn’t as if I was utterly clueless about Keith – I knew his music taste (fairly well), I knew what his preferred coffee flavors are, how he believes more in aliens than centaurs. The facts I was able to dig up about Keith, are only miniscule details amongst an entire galaxy full of data.

 

As if I was handed a selection of pieces for an unfinished puzzle, with no guide on how to complete it.

 

Subtly observing Keith while we moved from each store, one question wouldn’t escape my mind, no matter how much I reinforced that it wasn’t important to get the answer to it.

 

_Keith Kogane…_

**_Who_ ** **are _you_? **

 

\--

 

 

After the shopping ~~disaster~~ trip, the rest of the week passed in a blink of an eye, excitement and anxiety for the upcoming wedding becoming more prominent. Now, it was only two hours away, and I spent most of my time getting ready focused on my hair. It _had_ to choose the most important day to be unruly.  

 

Keith managed to help my curls fall in place, but the style made me look like a Tumblr boy. _Not that I would know, or anything_ …

 

His arm flung around my shoulders, dragging the two of us to the mirror. “Alright, we both look pretty good, huh?” When he was speaking, the tiny-bun that he _definitely pulled off_ bounced the slightest bit, not masking his eagerness. “Plus, my online friend, Shay, is the nicest person ever. She’s the maid of honor tonight.” Nodding along to his continued enthusing, we started to embark on what would be a ‘fun as hell’ night, stated by Keith himself.

 

The clock read that it was seven, but the sky just looked like a scatter of colors, resembling a sunset despite the sun having already disappeared. It was quite cloudy out, and I hope it will not rain anytime soon.

 

Cars were flying in and out of the highways, horns being honked more often than not. Orlando at night resembled New York City quite a lot – the lights nearly blinding if you stared at them for too long, smokers on their phone in shady alleyways, potholes practically everywhere. And since I didn’t know where the venue was located, Keith was loading it on his phone’s GPS, making sudden stops and curves.

 

Once a gigantic, three-story mansion came into view, something unsettled my stomach. It obviously was the place we needed to be… but why was I getting a grim feeling in my gut?

 

“Shay!”

 

“Keith!”

 

Waking up from my delusions, I laid my eyes on Shay and Keith, the pair hugging (Shay eventually picking him up, because _wow_ , she’s muscular as fuck). An undeniably ecstatic-yet-closed grin was on his face, gawking up at his taller-friend.

 

“Ah, um… Shay, this is Lance, the person I was- “

 

Before Keith was able to finish his comment, Shay attacked me in an embrace, patting my back reassuringly. She is agonizingly sweet… I’m on the verge of getting a cavity in my heart. How could anyone _seriously_ be this gentle, to a complete stranger nonetheless? Gazing at Keith nervously, he just shrugged his shoulders (so much for silently asking for help), and I figured I’d give in to the hug. What’s the worst – _oh shit, I think my spine just shattered – please don’t squeeze that tight, since when was I off the ground_?

 

Shay’s contagious and adorable giggle was sending shivers down my _~~broken~~_ spine, and before my ears were cleansed of that lingering laughter, a familiar shade of white came into my vision.

 

Rolo was panicking, breathing insanely heavy. “Rolo?” Shay placed me down once I voiced my worries, confused by his actions. “What’s wrong? I thought you weren’t invited– “

 

“Listen, Lance, you shouldn’t go in there…” His voice was cracking on every syllable, eyes huge in bewilderment. “You need to leave- “

 

Keith stepped in, poking Rolo back. “I don’t know who you are, but my friend’s-friend is getting married today, and we waited a long time for this. Why would he need to leave? We traveled half-way across the country.” His voice was sharper than usual, making my heart skip in shock. Since when did Keith Kogane become such an assertive person? Did he always have a sharp tongue? On one hand, I wanted to hear what Rolo had to say, but Keith’s grasp on my wrist was shaky, on the brink of being rough. Shay nodded in our direction, and initiated a conversation with the trembling boy, Keith leading me into the mansion.

 

What is going on, this is all too fast… I can’t catch my breath. And why are my instincts shouting at me to _leave_?

 

His footsteps gradually slowed down, stopping at a pillar with nobody surrounding us. My inquiries needed answers, before I lose it and go scatterbrained.

 

“Sorry, I just… I just want us to have fun tonight, I’m sorry. That was so rude of me.”

 

Softly mushing his cheeks with my palms, I stared at him, with an intent to soothe him, and obtain answers to my wonders. “It’s fine, it’ll be alright, mullet-boy. We’re going to have a great time, and in fact, I’m already having fun with you. But, I’m kind of hungry, so let’s head over to the kitchen, yeah?” He mutely agreed, lip corners convulsing into a clumsy grin, and we made our way throughout the horde of people. I must have seen approximately fifty men wearing the same suit, but that’s what is expected from a city-wedding.

 

Whoever’s wedding this was, had a pretty decent choice of songs to play before the reception, “Fever” by _The Black Keys_ being blasted at full volume, vibrating off the walls. However, the food was below standard quality.

 

Like, fifty-seven times worse than _7Eleven undercooked hotdogs_.

 

So, Keith and I – two **professional, college-student adults** – flung the shitty baked chicken at each other, snickers nearly louder than the music itself. Most of the party-attendees glared with an intense abhorrence, but a few recorded the foolish fight. However, everyone that passed were merely background noise: Keith’s laughs were blinding everything. His smile, the way his chest quivers with each breathy chuckle, how he stuck his tongue out when focusing on tossing a grape at me. For all I cared, this party – for me – was meant to accentuate every feature Keith has. Even his hair had bishounen sparkles flashing on every strand.

 

 And a wave of emotions hit me, a bullet piercing through my heart, lungs, and brain. No warning, no ‘use caution’ sign – it was out of the blue.

 

I really, truly, absolutely like Keith. Maybe this will work out.

 

An obnoxiously-clamorous gasp shattered the moment between us, stealing the attention everyone had. Who is capable of making that much of a dramatic entrance? And as soon as it was over, an all-too familiar, sinister cackle filled the air, my pulse halting.

 

“Lance? As in… Lance Sanchez? Is that you?” Wincing with every footstep I heard, I could barely perceive the bemused vibe Keith was giving off, but my eyesight went blurry. All of my senses were hyperaware on the person who was decked out in full-ivory, heels clanking abnormally loud. “I wasn’t expecting you here! Come here, let me hug you! It’s been so long.” The woman’s pasty, slim hand pulled me up by my shirt, rubbing my stiff back so casually. Every touch made me flinch, goosebumps plastering my frame. Not good. I knew this was a bad decision. I should have let Rolo finish. “Come here, give me a proper hug- “

 

“Don’t,” I whacked her arm away, a surge of lividness swarming in my stomach. I’m scared. _No, you’re furious at her_. I want to run away. _Don’t, you need to face your problems head on_. She hurt me. _She ruined your life, not only making it ‘inconvenient_.’ I’m going to puke. _Stop, you’re only feeling the purest form of resentment_. “Don’t you _fucking **dare**_ touch me, Nyma.”

 

A startled expression was on her face, surprised by my actions. _No, it’s a false front. She’s a dirty, monstrous person_. “Lance, what are you talking about?” Her eyes darted across the room, worried for her reputation. _No, she’s not worried. She doesn’t want people to know the truth_. “Here, let’s discuss this somewhere else, people are listening.” Nyma’s fingers scratched at her temples, speaking at a faster rate. _She only talks speedily when she’s planning something, don’t fall into her traps_. Maybe I should hear her out. _Lance, you know what she did to you, there’s no way to justify that_. Everyone has a voice. _Not when it comes to this_.

 

I didn’t have a way out of the confrontation: Nyma forcefully dragged me away, Keith being lightly pushed off. Please don’t let me go, Keith. I attempted to say his name, but it was too hoarse and quiet from being _petrified –_ no _, pissed_. My only escape route out was closed off from the person who heisted me away.

 

After numerous flights of stairs, we ended up on the balcony of the master bedroom, and I was shoved onto the railing, feet being shoved off the ledge. I’m going to fall if she lets go. Please don’t touch me – _don’t let me fall_ – she needs to back off – _I’m terrified of being dropped from this height_.

 

The egregious smirk that haunted me was being flashed right in front of my face, sudden flashbacks of the past buzzing through my mind. “It’s been a while, huh? Miss me?” Her breath was treading into areas I didn’t want her nearby. Hell, I didn’t want this **_monstruo_** in the same two-hundred-mile radius of me. “Ah, the mark’s faded away after all these years – should I make another one?”

 

I wanted to cry my eyes out, I wanted to throw her off the balcony, I wanted to break out from the chains she’s locked on me since tenth grade. My sanity was held at gunpoint, the perpetrators being the past, and the figure who soiled my future. Where can I hide? _Should I punch her_? No, it’s her wedding – _who cares, she defiled you_. Still, she needs to keep her image, it’s her important day. _One day doesn’t matter in the span of millions._ **Shut up, shut up, shut up**.

 

Her hands traveled down my hips, freezing near the band of my trousers. Get out of my personal space. Don’t do this. _I’m going to lose my mind_. Stop acting this way before someone sees. _It doesn’t matter who sees, she’s done worse_. Don’t bring that up, we’re supposed to be having a fun time with Keith. **Keith, Keith, Keith**. _Nyma was the sole reason behind your trust issues_. No, I believe in him. _You doubt everyone, you are a lying, soulless doubter. Not even your own family knows the truth of what happened_. **Shut up**. _That’s why you isolated yourself, you were horrified of being let down again_. You’re wrong. _I’m right, I’m you_. No, that’s not what happened. _You tried to die because of your overwhelming feelings after the incident. How are you still trying to make up for the fact that she wounded you – devastated you, for years_?

 

“How ‘bout we have a round before the reception?” The repulsive feeling of being touched returned after years of trying to hide it. My stomach churned unlike ever before, sickened by even the existence of Nyma.

 

With my wobbling hands, I shoved the demon as far away as possible, trying to catch my breath: but my throat was sandpaper, parched of any moisture to form audible sounds. “Get away, yo-you- “

 

“‘ _You’_ what?” I needed to purge, I needed to  now. “Don’t you remember us? Nyma and Lance, the dream couple of both our grades. Every guy wanted to be you. Now, you come here, to my wedding, and surprise me with a face of pure bliss.” Her ‘sympathetic, yet nostalgic’ expression faltered, a satanic chortle rupturing from her esophagus. “I want to fucking _crush_ it.” One of her sharpest nails was pointed at my eye, almost a centimeter away from surfacing any lashes. “Keith? You’re hitting on Keith? He’s not the person meant for you. Even I know that. You are a kid that craved attention, and would beg to date me until I caved in.” _That’s not correct,_ you _did that_. “So, now that the tables are turned, I’d love to mingle one last time, but I only have a few more minutes until my **husband** turns up. Let’s make this quick, _my love_.”

 

 _Anything but that phrase_.

 

Static was blocking any signals flowing through my nervous system, held captive by the degrading brute in front of me. All of my limbs went numb, making a get-away unattainable. Nyma baited me into her web of lies once again, and I was about to be devoured, continuing the cycle of our twisted relationship.

 

The door was knocked down by two pairs of feet, a wave of intimidating rage flooding the room. Am I really saved – or am I only rescued from my physical fate? Her repugnant touch disappeared, but the sheer truth of the situation wouldn’t leave my consciousness: Nyma is **here** , Nyma still **torments me** , Nyma has **no remorse for what she did to me**.

 

With a snarky heave of disapproval, her heels clinked away, the two blurry bodies giving an imposing display of hatred just in their stances. The pressure of the circumstances I was placed under just crashed down on me, my breaths coming out hefty, burning against my scratchy throat. Once I finished pulling myself semi-together, the duo inched near me, bending down to be leveled with my face.

 

“Lance, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.” Keith’s unsteady voice alarmed me, bolts of guilt striking the deep-center of my core. “If-if it wasn’t for me inviting you, this could have been avoided…. I’m really sorry, oh my God, this is a disaster.” Let me say something, why can’t I say something? His wheezes were rapid, and my hand, although jittery from the predicament, reached out for his, a fragile grip on it. Despite my eyes burning from the threat of tears, I broke out a weak, and wonky, yet fortifying simper, only yearning for Keith to be at ease again.

 

If I have to walk with glass shards covering my body to make Keith happy, I would do it.

 

“It’s fine, I’m fine.” My voice seemed to be on the wavelength of a severe smoker’s, but I will not allow that to break my demeanor. “Let’s go… watch the ceremony, yeah?” Feebly positioning myself onto my feet, I side-eyed the person who came to my safety: _Rolo_. Again.

 

But if I have to pretend I am not falling apart inside, I’ll do it for Keith. Because I _trust him_ … right? _Do I truly have faith in him_?

 

\--

 

 

The wedding went on with no issues, the topic of us never being touched upon. And days elapsed, my heart devoid of any sentiments, but I managed to scrape by with silly conversations with Keith.

 

Our flight was finished before I realized it even began. The ride home was shorter than I recalled it to be.

 

Nothing really mattered, nothing bothered me. I had felt the truest form of emptiness, and it didn’t faze me.

 

The goodbyes to Keith were short, and straight to the chase, but more flowery than my mood really was.

 

My body was a mindless machine, controllers salvaged after the encounter with Nyma.

 

 _Ukiyo_ was practicing in my apartment room, but I didn’t mind. Anything to drown out my miseries was welcome at this stage of agony. The hum of Shiro’s drums were muffling the static noises in my brain, the first distraction I’ve had from my thoughts the past three days. Even if it was a small start, is was _a start_ nonetheless, and I could use something to dodge my problems once again.

 

Wiping away any future beginnings of tears, I unlocked the door, and wore my false exhibit of happiness. “I’m back, miss me?”

 

 _Placebo_ ’s “Song to Say Goodbye” dimmed out once I spoke, everyone’s gaze focused on me. Even Coran made it to practice this time, and his eyes were the most clouded. Did something happen – _is it me? Am I being too obvious about how shitty I feel? Did I ruin the mood again? Is it my fault? It’s always my fault in the end, isn’t it? I destroyed Keith’s excitement for the wedding, Shay’s friendly exterior dropped after finding us again, Rolo was more focused on my mood than the marriage happening_.

 

“Couldn’t you have at least messaged us once, Lance?” Hunk’s lip was being sucked in, and that could only mean one thing – he was disappointed.

 

“Please don’t make that face, I… I know I’m a disappointment. At least let me have five minutes to settle down before I get told how terrible I am, okay?”

 

Shiro’s eyes twitched, but before anyone else had to throw in their two cents, I slumped to my room, carelessly plopping my bags on the floor. The horror of the event flashed in my mind once again, making me grab the roots of my hair.

 

“Not again.”

 

Nyma’s laugh, her hands shrouding my vision, the way her fingers dug into my skin like unclipped claws of a tiger. Blood. Hunk’s frightened yell. My drunk cries for help. Blood. Guys suffocating me. Rolo restraining Hunk. My chest being scratched raw. Nyma forcing me down. "Casual Affair" blasting. Smothering. Smirks that could kill with one look.

 

 ** _MY LOVE_**.

 

 “Get out!”

 _Don’t deny the truth again Lance. You were abused, remember_?

“Leave me alone!”

 _Nyma used you_.

“Shut up!”

 _You were a victim_.

“Stop, stop, stop- “

 _You were a victim_.

“Get out of my head!”

 _You are a victim_.

“GO AWAY!”

 _You will_ always _be a victim under Nyma’s hands_.

 

“LANCE!” Shiro’s fretful tone resonated within me, his bionic fingers gripping at my face. “This isn’t real, you’re having a panic attack – look at me, Lance. You’ll be okay, I promise. The feeling isn’t permanent.” The fuzzy image of Shiro was getting closer, his forehead banging into my own.

 

“Ow! What-what the fuck?!”

 

“See?” His left hand rubbed on the impacted area, staring in my eyes with a deep passion. “Pain is only short-lived. Life goes on after being hurt, whether you like it or you don’t. Do you hear me, Lance? Everything will disappear in time.” The others were standing outside the door, panic spreading across the group like a wildfire. Especially _Mariana_. Shiro silently expressed to not pay them any attention, only focus on him. “You know that better than anyone, how do you think we became friends? And… I **_believe_** in you.” Lies.

 

The ideal world I managed to create was taken from under me, leaving me stranded in a plane of nothingness. Similar to a black hole, or a secluded island, which is only a figment of my imagination. Where nobody can reach me, nobody could assist my escape.

 

I was… _alone_.

 

 

Stiffly chuckling, I helped the both of us up. “I’m good, man, what are you worrying about? Just had a little panic attack, the trip was a bit too overwhelming, even for me.” _You lie because you have no trust in anyone_. “So, Ukiyo’s practicing today? Any shows happening this week?” _Avoid the truth, that’s your only talent_.

 

“Did Keith do something to you?” Pidge spoke up, nervously stepping into the room. “Something’s off, even I can tell, Lance. You haven’t acted this odd since tenth grade- “

 

“I **said** , I am **alright** , _didn’t_ I?” The harshness was not intended, and I was puzzled by my own reaction more than anyone else. “Shit, that came out wrong – no, it’s really all good here.”

 

“거짓말쟁이 (Liar).” Only Keith knows how to speak Korean – when did he come in? How long has he been here? Did he follow me home? “You’ve been acting strange since that blonde lady came into the picture: who even is Nyma to you, Lance?”

 

Shiro’s grasp on my shoulder made me jump, but not as much as the solemn-and-husky statement that Keith dropped on me. The room’s atmosphere went from anxious, to surprised, and then enraged. Everyone knows that Nyma’s wedding was the one I attended. That I was in the same space as Nyma.

 

Grunting, I fell on my bed, observing the stars on my roof. _They aren’t glowing as bright tonight_.

 

“Nyma is… is an ex of mine, and she…” Sighing, I strained myself to keep on going without letting my desolation show through my words. “She… abused me in tenth grade.” Keith’s hands balled into fists, the sound distinct between the distraught nasal-exhales from the group – but Mariana, oh Mariana, the fierce face she always projected has fallen. “Hunk, Hunk witnessed the situation and – and he tore her off of me, along with the three others…” I paused to gulp, fighting back any tears from falling out. “Rolo restrained Hunk… he gashed open everyone. That’s why he’s… terrified of blood, it’s my fault. In the end, it’s my fault for everything. I was the one who let the tension between Nyma and I build up that much, and she rap- “

 

Hunk’s weeps echoed in the room, covering up my last few words with his breathy sobs. Coran joined in after, then both of the Holts, and Allura shed a few tears, too.

 

Although it felt tremendously delightful to let the burden off my shoulder, something panged at my heart even more afterwards: the guilt of having them concerned. That was the one thing I vowed to never do again, and here we go once more.

 

A broken Lance, exposed in front of people I deeply care about.

 

“You’re not to blame, idiot.” Keith kicked the shins of my leg, making me sit up from the ache. “It’s never anyone’s fault, and besides, Hunk is afraid of many things. Remember when he said he has an irrational fear of poop being left in the toilet? He’s prone to being worried. Not that it’s a bad thing, Hunk.” Hunk nodded in between his hysterical bawling, Keith continuing on soon after. “Plus, if anyone was to be blamed, it would be the asshole – I mean Nyma – because that doesn’t just happen, no matter what state they were in. It was intentional, and to be _honest_ , you don’t deserve that. Nobody deserves that.”

 

His fist collided into my chest, Mariana following his exact move a few seconds later. “Mullet-man’s right, hermano. You may be annoying, and I want to punch you most of the time I am awake, but we love you. That’s all that matters right now. It’ll be alright.” Now ** _I_** was on the verge of breaking out into tears.

 

Without any verbal exchanges, everyone attacked me in a hug, huddling together on the bed like a pile of bodies to be burned. A mixture of crying and sniggering were filling the room with unnecessary vibrations, the cheap bed creaking with every move someone made.

 

“You ass-assh-asshol- fuck,” Pidge’s snot was holding back the insult, as their glasses were painted with splats of water.  

 

Allura wiped the snot trickling down Pidge’s nose with her handkerchief, and tossed it across the room like it was some kind of mega-trash can. “I kind of feel like binge-eating away the pain… the confession was more upsetting than the original one.”

 

As if on cue, my stomach growled, silencing the whole room. “Um… even though I kind of feel like I’m dying inside, I could use some junk food to mask the pain.”

 

\--

****

** KINKY SPACE NUNS **

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : lance idfC if you just told everyone the big news

 **Pidgey CP 45** : touch my bottle of soda again and I will kick your ass all the way to Sedona don’t fucking test me I have had it up to here with your antics

 

 **Hunky Man** : pidge you are right across the table

 

 **caBROn** : smd I do what I want and im upset so let me   L I V E

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : nah that’s keith’s job now drop the bottle before I drop you out the goddamn window

 

 **#DAD** : You know… can we just stop and enjoy the bonding moment for once

 

 **caBROn** : shiro ily

 **caBROn** : yeah its actually helping me to calm down a bit

 **caBROn** : but pidge is #bullying me

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** that’s my job

**Hunky Man:** lance we should visit your family tomorrow

 **Hunky Man:** you know… since mariana’s the only one who knows the truth right now

 

 **#DAD:** I agree with Hunk, maybe a trip home can bring some comfort along

 

 **Allurduh** : can I come too I missed the last monthly Sanchez dinner

 

 **caBROn** : I hatE when u are right

 **caBROn** : not gonna win this one so I give in [sighs dramatically]

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** :

 

 

**caBROn:**

 

 

 **Hunky Man:** oh shit the meme wars 2k16 is starting everyone grab your 3d glasses

**Allurduh:** now’s not the time coran is about to deck out cards against humanity to cheer lance and keith up so come ON save the memes for your dreams goodbye

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** OOOOOOOOO CAH MY LIFEEEE

 

 

 

Keith’s hand was placed over my phone, his squinting growing more menacing each second.

 

“What is it?”

 

“I don’t get it… how can you act so calm after that?” The question threw me off, especially since it came straight from Keith’s mouth – _not_ Hunk’s, _not_ Allura’s, but _Keith’s_.

 

Winking, I covered up the conflict inside of me, acting unaffected. “My specialty is to keep everyone in balance, and even though it still… really hurts, I’m going to be okay. You know why?” His head shook, bamboozled by my comment. “Because I’m not the old me. I have friends, family, and now, _you_. I’m not going to lie, and say that I am perfectly fine, but it’s nothing to worry about, okay?” _Of course I’m not calm. I am panicking inside. Nyma still controls my thoughts like I am a simulation, just waiting to be toyed with._ _I was almost touched against my will only a few days ago_. But I’m not the old me. I’m not going to fall apart like the first time. I’m stronger, and I have unwavering support from everyone.

 

 _You don’t trust them fully, Lance_.

 

The bottle of Dr. Pepper was knocked over, spilling all over my shirt and sweatpants.

 

“¡ ** _Dios mío_**! Who did that?”

 

This is normal, this is the way it should be: everyone having an entertaining time. Nobody’s hurting, nobody is constantly down anyone’s throat about positivity, nothing being asked about my wellbeing. _You’re not well_. All that I need is the satisfaction of being around these people. _They don’t understand_. I don’t need to be understood.

 

I wondered, not even a short while ago, who Keith Kogane really was… but I don’t even know myself. Now, the both of us were inscrutable, but in a strange way, the experience brought us closer together – maybe it was fate, or the fact that I was pulled in by his magnetic attraction. Keith, I lo-

 

** NEW MESSAGE: just now  **

**ROLO-dex** : dude, slight problem… nyma has a flight to ny in aug.

 

I wasn’t sure of what dropped faster: my phone, or my heart, from the sudden message. Whatever it was, I was aghast, and the static began to ring once again.

 

 _Are you going to run, or hide this time, Lance_?

\--

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im emo and rolo has white hair syndrome so you know what that means
> 
> ref of the clothes (long list)  
> LANCE –  
> • http://www.pacsun.com/young-reckless/torik-scallop-t-shirt-0098201220344.html?dwvar_0098201220344_color=010&cgid=mens-graphic-tees&srule=Price%20-%20Low%20to%20High&start=441  
> • http://www.pacsun.com/vans/full-patch-back-black-long-sleeve-t-shirt-0103037910041.html?cgid=mens-graphic-tees&dwvar_0103037910041_color=001&srule=Price%20-%20Low%20to%20High&start=488  
> • http://www.pacsun.com/cooke-collective/savage-af-t-shirt-0097477890006.html?cgid=mens-graphic-tees&srule=Price%20-%20Low%20to%20High&dwvar_0097477890006_color=054&start=495  
> • http://www.pacsun.com/cooke-collective/lit-t-shirt-0097477890021.html?cgid=mens-graphic-tees&srule=Price%20-%20Low%20to%20High&start=538&dwvar_0097477890021_color=001  
> • http://www.pacsun.com/rvca/label-vintage-dye-t-shirt-0098251310706.html?cgid=mens-graphic-tees&dwvar_0098251310706_size=9200&srule=Price%20-%20Low%20to%20High&start=574&dwvar_0098251310706_color=040  
> • http://www.pacsun.com/volcom/terry-henley-long-sleeve-t-shirt-0126059400054.html?cgid=mens-longsleeve-tshirts&dwvar_0126059400054_size=9200&srule=Price%20-%20Low%20to%20High&start=87&dwvar_0126059400054_color=040  
> • http://www.pacsun.com/pacsun/skinny-black-jogger-pants-0133436750174.html?cgid=skinny-jeans-mens&dwvar_0133436750174_color=001&srule=Price%20-%20Low%20to%20High&start=5  
> • http://www.pacsun.com/pacsun/skinny-kelp-stretch-jeans-0131436750018.html?cgid=skinny-jeans-mens&srule=Price%20-%20Low%20to%20High&start=12&dwvar_0131436750018_color=156  
> • http://www.pacsun.com/pacsun/skinny-stretch-brown-chino-pants-0133436750028.html?cgid=skinny-jeans-mens&srule=Price%20-%20Low%20to%20High&start=19&dwvar_0133436750028_color=020  
> • http://www.pacsun.com/adidas/california-tights-0135000257722.html?cgid=mens-joggers&dwvar_0135000257722_color=091&srule=Price%20-%20Low%20to%20High&start=4 
> 
>  
> 
> KEITH –  
> • http://www.pacsun.com/hurley/oscar-pocket-heather-grey-t-shirt-0098036480768.html?cgid=mens-graphic-tees&dwvar_0098036480768_color=367&srule=Price%20-%20Low%20to%20High&start=2  
> • http://www.pacsun.com/on-the-byas/hogan-relaxed-pocket-t-shirt-0120468680187.html?cgid=mens-graphic-tees&srule=Price%20-%20Low%20to%20High&start=26&dwvar_0120468680187_color=431  
> • http://www.pacsun.com/on-the-byas/daisy-print-t-shirt-0120468680029.html?cgid=mens-graphic-tees&srule=Price%20-%20Low%20to%20High&start=40&dwvar_0120468680029_color=001  
> • http://www.pacsun.com/santa-cruz/classic-dot-long-sleeve-t-shirt-0097020500022.html?cgid=mens-graphic-tees&dwvar_0097020500022_color=001&srule=Price%20-%20Low%20to%20High&start=166  
> • http://www.pacsun.com/modern-amusement/keid-mock-twist-henley-t-shirt-0120468680168.html?cgid=mens-graphic-tees&srule=Price%20-%20Low%20to%20High&dwvar_0120468680168_color=001&dwvar_0120468680168_size=9200&start=187  
> • http://www.pacsun.com/pacsun/guppy-striped-relaxed-t-shirt-0120468680038.html?cgid=mens-graphic-tees&srule=Price%20-%20Low%20to%20High&start=207&dwvar_0120468680038_color=484&dwvar_0120468680038_size=9200  
> • http://www.pacsun.com/pacsun/stacked-skinny-light-wash-flex-stretch-jeans-0131103680006.html?green=57797B61-35FE-5409-9629-353634FEF777  
> • http://www.pacsun.com/pacsun/stacked-skinny-black-stretch-jeans-0131436750048.html?green=57797B61-35FE-5409-9629-353634FEF777  
> • http://www.pacsun.com/pacsun/skinny-stretch-grey-chino-pants-0133436750027.html?cgid=skinny-jeans-mens&dwvar_0133436750027_color=004&srule=Price%20-%20Low%20to%20High&start=59  
> • http://www.pacsun.com/pacsun/skinny-menswear-chino-pants-0133462870001.html?dwvar_0133462870001_color=004&cgid=mens-denim-fit-chino-pants&srule=Price%20-%20Low%20to%20High&start=22


	7. SEVEN: Limerence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: blood/fighting/extreme profanity/past-abuse 
> 
> ^^^pretty much a mixture of sex, angst, and fluff. got my mojo (never saying that aGAin) going bc school is already kicking my ass and its two days away????? like tf tabitha pull yourself together you only got this year & senior year left. 
> 
> anyways enjoy the emoness... the emo strikes again

_The Hazelnut Frappuccino tasted like poison on my tongue_.

 

With trembling fingers, I observed the people coming in and out of the shop, Hunk gradually wearing out after each one. It was almost closing time, and those who would suffer through a midnight shift or late-night travels were continuously barging in. Unfortunately, Hunk was a morning person – unlike Pidge and I, and after hours of forcing himself to stay awake, the job only became more arduous for him. The only person who didn’t seem to be strained, was Pidge, tinkering around with the radio to make improvements on it. Why they enrolled in a Physics class instead of just Engineering, I’ll never know, but their talent truly amazed me whenever they were working.

 

Times like these remind me of how bitter I am inside about failing to get into Physics, and how limited my talents are when compared to Hunk and Pidge’s. I am good at a vast amount of things, but I lack the passion and ambition to really call anything a _talent_.

 

Shiro’s boots made a light clanking sound, making me more aware of my surroundings. His voice resonated gravelly, not masking his exhaustion – not that he needed to, the poor man hasn’t slept in days – and once the clock ticked to midnight, Hunk’s relieved sigh was alleviating any agitation in the room. Despite Shiro telling Hunk that he needed some caffeine more than he did, the dark circles clouding the bags under his eyes _screamed_ for a jolt of energy.

 

“No, I need to stay awake, _Ukiyo’s_ performing in a few minutes across the street. You guys seem tired, too, so you should just go home.” Shiro’s ‘reassuring pat’™ made Hunk brighten up a bit, a blissful smile forming on his lips.

 

The faint hums of “Modern” by _Mogwai_ from the bar diagonal to us seemed to cancel out the conversations the three were having, leaving me to wallow in the dark thoughts in my mind, pandemonium breaking out not too long after. _I’m not having another anxiety attack, nothing’s going to happen. Plus, you are in a public place, Lance, you shouldn’t do this_.

 

Pidge’s faint laughter rang through my ears, making my lips quiver from the impulsive thoughts I had after hearing it – _how could someone be that happy when their friend is having a rough time_? And instantaneously, I mentally punched myself for that, because the reason why is clear… they don’t know you’re _suffering_ , because you never _confide_ in them. As if on cue, Shiro plunged right down into the chair in front of me, guzzling his coffee down.

 

Not even his presence is having a calming effect on me. Should I ask him for help? _No, you repeatedly told yourself you wouldn’t bother anyone. Stop making it about you, he has a show in a few minutes_. “Lance, you’d love the set list tonight. _Kings of Leon, AWOLNATION, Tame Impala_ … and Pidge, we are throwing in a few _Mother Mother_ and _IAMX_ songs, just for you. Hopefully the two of you can make it, while Hunk sleeps?” Shit, Shiro’s pout is incredibly guilt-inducing, engraving itself in my memories. How could I ever reject that face…? _Bastard_.

 

Pidge’s violent witch cackle startled me, a wicked grin growing. “Lance and I are obviously going, dad.” Now I really can’t escape it.

 

“Man, I wanna go, too…” Hunk’s innocent weeps made the two others giggle, his dramatic tendencies always having a serious undertone. Sighing, he continued the act: “I give in… let’s go.”

 

\--

 

One band that Pidge managed to convince me to like, is _MuteMath_.

 

So, it would be an understatement to just say that the both of us were excited when the first note of “Chaos” blasted, as the introductory song. It was my ultimate favorite of all their tracks, and perfectly suits Mariana’s style.

 

“ _I can't avoid what I can't control, and I'm losing ground "_  Shiro was duetting with Allura, Matt backing up on Shiro’s vocals once the breakdown is nearing by.

 

Pidge and I couldn’t contain our excitement, yelling out the lyrics to the dismay of the vast crowd. “I KNOW YOU STAY TRUE WHEN MY WORLD IS FALSE, EVERYTHING AROUND’S BREAKING DOWN TO CHAOS!” My head-banging was extremely rough on my neck, but that didn’t stop me: this song is bang-worthy, and yes – I do this _every_ time I listen to it. Matt’s raspy tones were making Pidge shoot finger guns at him, which they only do when they’re in a pretty good mood. Hunk was swaying to the song’s instrumental break, Pidge and I jokingly slow-dancing with each other. Somehow I ended up being the one twirled around, but I dipped Pidge almost to the ground, for payback.

 

The song faded into “Decode,” Hunk squealing from the sudden transition – this was his guilty pleasure, and everyone in our group knows how much he loves Hayley Williams. I still stand behind my point that all of us are in love with her.

 

However, my eyes were eventually peeled away from Hunk singing passionately into his straw, a flicker of raven hair making its way through the crowd. Keith? When did Keith know they were performing – oh my, oh my _God_. Not only was he decked out in full _black_ , his jeggings were skintight, a gulp flying through my throat from the shock. Pairing **those** with combat boots, and the black V-neck tee, and fucking _rolling up the sleeves_ on top of that? A deadly blow. Once again.

 

Keith, as soon as he locked eyes on me, waved with two fingers, speeding his pace up. _Where’s my inhaler when I desperately need it_? Point blank, he’s taking my breath away, and I don’t want to be a wheezing mess when he finally is by us. “Lance! Hey, I didn’t think you would come tonight. I’m glad I got to see you.” Shit, he’s being too adorable. My lungs are shrinking from the lack of oxygen, I swear. However, what added to my flustered state was that Pidge peered behind my shoulder, ogling at Keith. Did they hear? I’m in deep trouble now. “Are we supposed to meet up at your apartment tomorrow? I wasn’t sure how we’d all travel to see your parents…”

 

“Oh, _don’t worry_ , Keith. Just show up at his place tomorrow, _trust me_.” Pidge’s shit-eating grin made me want to deck them, placing their hand on one of his shoulders. “Now that we’re here, let’s have a fucking fun time, I’m gonna get so wasted I won’t mind Lance’s stupid jokes.”

 

“Oi.” I got them in a headlock, ruffling up their puffy hair. “Be quiet, I’m a humor God.”

 

“Fine, fine… Hades of humor.”

 

“Nobody even _likes_ Hades! That’s like someone saying Aquaman is their favorite hero!”

 

“My point stands.”

 

Offended, I gasped, inching near to Keith for support. All I got was a shrug of his shoulders, Pidge gracing us (again) with their demonic chortle. _Whatever, I’m just being bullied again_. Reverting my focus back to the stage, Shiro’s eyes caught my glance, as if it was on purpose.

 

And it clearly was, because right after he pointed his drumstick to Keith, the track switched to “Strange Love,” literally the hottest song _Halsey_ ever produced. Keith held out his hand dramatically, and I don’t know if he realized what song this was, but I accepted. Take your chances when you get them, especially if it’s when a cute boy wants to dance.

 

Once the lyrics came, a blush painted Keith’s pale complexion, awakening something inside of me. “Keith, don’t you know how to dance to _Halsey_?” His innocent shake of the head ignited my hope, grabbing him close. “Just watch. Pidge!” I let him go, winking at him to keep watching. “Get out of my way, I’m busy.”

 

“ ** _But I don't have to fucking tell you anything, anything…”_**

I spun around, whispering the words to myself. With a few sways, I bent down, bouncing slightly to the beat, until standing back up, rolling my hips and placing my hands above my head. His eyes were wide, looking quite astounded, and I did my final touch before the chorus came back: lifting my leg up slightly, quickly popping out my butt, and winking behind me.

 

Pidge’s wolf-whistles made me burst out into snickers, cockily grinning while walking back. “ _That’s_ how you dance to _Halsey_.” Keith still wouldn’t snap out of his stance, staring with a mixture of looks. “Keith?”

 

“That was ho-amazing. I can’t even dance like your brother,” Keith pointed out Finn, who was grinding on his girlfriend-of-the-month in the corner. Mariana, stop inviting him to these things, seriously.

 

Of course, with my mind disgusted from the sight of their horrendous moves, I could only come up with one thing to say: “You want to _grind_?” **Kill** me. His little nod oozed shyness, ripping my heart apart more than ever before. Dios mío, this is a surprise. “We’ll teach you another time.” The bravado I held onto soon maneuvered its way out of my grasp, being left with crippling doubts all over again. _This isn’t about you, this is about supporting your friends’ band. Don’t ruin everyone’s night because of your feelings_.

 

Yeah, never planning on bringing this up again.

 

\--

 

“Lance, get up. Come on, it’s eleven in the morning – if you don’t get up, you’ll miss the train……………. Laaaaanccceeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee get **upppppppppppppp**!”

 

Water was poured on top of my head, making me screech while waking up. Pidge’s hands were about to wrap around my neck, a devious glare in their eyes, and Hunk was by their side, quite bewildered.

 

“P-P-Pidge, what… what the f-fuck?” My shivering body sat up from the sheets, getting disapproving grunts from the both of them about my sleeping regime. “I-I need… my blanket… cold…”

 

“Everyone’s going to be here in about half an hour, so you better make some time to clean yourself up for Mama Sanchez, _cabron_.”

 

Groaning, I rolled around in my bed for a few minutes, not caring about how stupid I looked. “Ay Dios, otro día… ¡Ya basta! ¿Por qué hiciste eso?” I was shuddering from the water trickling down to my neck, and sore from the previous night. “Déjame en paz, por favor.” Complaining into my pillow, I tried to work out all the muscles in my back, but failing to do so. Curses to dancing, curses to sleeping weird like a Picasso painting, curses to having to carry a snoozing-Hunk up the stairs.

 

It took about five minutes of moping around to realize – Keith is coming to meet mi familia. He’s coming to _my house_. Not just the apartment, but my **house**.

 

“¡JESUCRISTO!”

 

“Fucking finally, get your stinking ass in the shower, you smell like expired milk and sweat.”

 

\--

 

Around forty minutes later, Keith arrived, nobody following him in. The boy dragged the same bag with him that he had from the Orlando ~~disaster~~ trip, but had on those stupid alien jeans again. _We’ll work on it_.

 

“Hey, did anyone else come by on your walk here?”

 

“No, I didn’t see anyone- “ 

 

My phone blew up with texts, and by the sight of Pidge escaping through the window, I figured something was up. I excused myself to read it, hoping that it was not what I was thinking.

****

** KINKY SPACE NUNS **

 

 **Allurduh** : I cant make it today… bring back some of mama’s cooking

 **Allurduh** : pretty sure I’ll need to call in sick from work too. My…

 **Allurduh** : voice hurts, I sound like mariana screaming

 

 **#DAD** : get some rest bud

 **#DAD** : Can’t make it either, Matt & I are busy working today

 

 **Allurduh** : coran too he’s stopping by

 

 **#DAD:** alright tell him to bring… hammers?

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** I cant come…. I’m in labor

 

 **caBROn** : PIDGE WTF YOU WERE JUST HERE

 **caBROn** : YOU ARRENT EVE PREGNANTTT

 **caBROn** : YYOuuuu vcANT GET PREG IN THE FIFRST PLACEEE

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** GOTTA BLAST!!!!!!1!

 

 **Hunky Man** : I think I poisoned myself with…

 **Hunky Man** : the eggs, yea, the eggs

 **Hunky Man** : grooaaaannnn

 

 **caBROn** : YOU DIDN’T EVEN HAVE EGGS WE HAD BLAND CEREAL

 **caBROn** : WHAT IS GOING ONNNN

 

 **Allurduh** : HAVE FUN WITH KEITHY BOYYYYYY

 

 **caBROn** : fUCkinggg heLL

 

 

 

“Um… is something the matter?” Keith’s voice had a strain of worry in it, snapping me out from my enraged typing.

 

Sighing, I placed my hand on his shoulder, sniffling for extra effect. “Looks like it’s just you and me, mullet. Let’s get going, our train is coming in a few minutes.”

 

Keith’s gulp stopped me from gabbing on, staring at him for an explanation. “Um… you see, I, uh… never road a train before.”

 

“THE HELL?” Both of my hands squeezed his shoulders now, his eyes growing to the size of planets. “YOU LIVE IN NEW YORK, THE CITY NONETHELESS, AND YOU NEVER ROAD A TRAIN?” His shrug and nonplussed expression apprised the truth rather than words, and a bit of adventure flooded my veins. Extra-mischievous, I replied with a provocative tone: “Not for too much longer, pretty boy, let’s hear you yell like a mad man for an hour and a half.”

 

\--

 

The ride to Brentwood definitely did not fail to humor me. For approximately five minutes after the train started moving, Keith’s hand gripped my own with varying amounts of pressure, studying the flying worlds of scenery outside the window. And once the train got packed, a family of three sat down next to us, closing us in. He had to squeeze against me, his head resting on my own. Not going to lie, the close proximity bumped up my mood, especially when the train skidded on a glass bottle and the sparks flew everywhere – Keith panicked, and his fingers clamped my hand down, nervously staring at me for an answer to what it was.

 

It was safe to say, when we finally reached our stop, he calmed down immensely, but refused to let go of my hand until we got off. The family was uncomfortable once they realized we were holding hands, but when Keith didn’t have his eyes open, I flicked them off, not caring if there was a kid (possibly a pre-teen?) sitting on our side.

 

Mi casa was only a fifteen-minute stroll from the train station, and we made a pit stop for more coffee. Starbucks doesn’t even come close to Hunk’s level of expertise in brewing cups, but it satisfied the crave for caffeine.

 

The dulling-white siding of the house was the same as I remembered from last month, never changing from when we bought it. However, the inside of the place appeared _nothing_ like the outside. When you have an enormous family like I do, simplistic aesthetics just don’t work.

 

Barely getting my knuckle on the front door, it swung wide open, mama’s ever-dazzling smile blessing us. “¡Mi hijo! ¡Bienvenido a casa!” Although she was only four-foot-nine, her hugs were deadly – it could instantly kill an un-expecting man. After the soul-crushing embrace, she peered behind me, Keith nervously shifting around.

 

I cleared my throat out, stepping backwards to be with him. “Um, mama, this is Keith, my **friend**.” Keith waved awkwardly, lips twitching into the world’s most uncomfortable smile.

 

“Ah, Keith, welcome to our home!” Mama took a few steps closer, holding out her arms to hug him, but he mistook it as a handshake. Her gaze went back-and-forth between his face and hand, before shaking her head in disapproval. “No, no, cariño, we hug in this family.” Literally jumping on Keith, she was dragging him down to hug her back, which brought out a timid look on his face – I just shrugged. Everyone needs the _initiation affection attack_ , as Pidge deemed the name was.

 

His hands began to pat her back, before letting go. “Uh, thank… thank you, Miss Sanchez.”

 

“HERMANO!”

 

“Elliot, my boy!”

 

“Laaaanceeeeeeeeee~”

 

“Zoeeeeeeeeeeee~” The two nearly tackled me into the dirt, giggling like hyenas. Xavier and Bianca peeked through the door, waiting for the youngest two to let go. Unfortunately, they tightly held onto my legs, and I was forced to trudge to the door. “You guys are back for the monthly visit this time?”

 

“Xavier had time off from bartending, and I got fired once again. But shhh, mama doesn’t need to know that, no le digas a Mamá.” Bianca shushed me, which I complied to her wishes. “Mariana and Finn are deadass asleep, the concerts are wearing them out.”

 

Xavier rolled his eyes, acting like his usual, annoyingly egotistical self. “Finn is a lazy bastard on the weekends, anyways.”

 

“Xavier, Bianca, help make dinner! Lance has to show his friend around the house!” Mama spurted out, beaming between the two of us. She always knows what happens to us before we do, but hopefully I can hide my feelings well enough this time.

 

Keith slowly shuffled near me, clutching the straps on his bags. “Uh, you weren’t wrong when you said you had a big family…” Bianca and I chuckled in unison, the two pests on my legs confused as to what he said. They’re not completely fluent in English, Elliot being a bit more used to it from elementary school. “Should I take my shoes off before I go inside?”

 

“Nah, would you really think so? With all these kids around? We’ll clean it up later.” Bianca gave a thumbs up, then pointing it behind her, the stairs coming into view. “Lance, give him the tour, but you probably don’t want to go near the bathroom… Xavier just bombed it.”

 

“Bianca! Besame el culo.” Xavier flicked her off, and thus began the 2016 version of the eldest two bickering. Every year, it happens every single year.

 

Prying Zoe and Elliot off of my legs, I promised I’d play with them another time, and lead Keith inside the house. This afternoon, it was damn-close to being immaculate, especially for how late it was in the day. Typically, toys and clothes would be scattered across the first floor, considering our washing machine being down here. Plus, the kitchen was more decorated than the last time I visited, most likely Finn’s paintings or sculptures – even though he is the biggest fuckboy in our family, the kid could evolve to be the next Van Gogh or some shit. The stairs were as creaky as ever, making obnoxiously loud sounds every other step.

 

On the first floor, mama and papa’s room is connected to the living room, being the only people to avoid the demonic stairs. Bianca’s room came first on the left, then Mariana’s on the right, and Finn slept with Elliot, in the room exactly next to Mariana’s. The last bedroom was Xavier’s – which is also mine, and two bathrooms in front of ours. As chaotic as it could be in the mornings, we managed to scrape by: Bianca and Mariana showered at night, Xavier only spent five minutes (at most) in there, Finn would wash up in our parents’ bathroom, and I multitasked in the shower. Yes, that means brushing my teeth, body, and sometimes eating in there when I would be late.

 

You gotta do what you gotta do.

 

Finally reaching my room, I set our bags down by my twin-bed, checking to see if the drawers on the bottom had anything in them. “Alright, we can put our bags in here if mama wants us to. She can be a stickler when it comes to keeping our rooms somewhat-clean.” Keith just nodded, engrossed in looking around the shared bedroom. “Um… after Xavier moved out, we switched the bed into Finn’s room, since he grew too old for the small one he had. I don’t know if he’s spending the night or not, but if he is, we’d have to sleep in the living room. We have a pullout couch.”

 

“This is insane, Lance,” his eyes were sparkling, amazement written across his face. “Your house is so different… than what I expected. In a good way, though.”

 

The all-too familiar hum of “Vivir Mi Vida” seeped through the floors, and I could just visualize mama dancing downstairs, teaching Elliot how to slow dance.

 

“¿Quieres bailar conmigo?” Holding out my hand for Keith, I wiggled my eyebrows for extra emphasis, in case he didn’t know what that meant. His snort didn’t cover the fact that he ~~clearly~~ willingly agreed, trying to mimic my movements. “Okay, so to _properly_ slow-dance like a Sanchez, you move the opposite way of your partner, and always sway your hips gently every single step you make. Keep your knees together to correctly swing, and I’m pretty sure you can at least twirl, right?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Alright, hit me, Young Padawan.” I cooed in his face, egging him on to the best of my abilities. He clutched my hands, leading me in the dance. His hips weren’t quite moving the way they should, and I actually had to guide him in _that_ , too (not that I complained). “You know how you lean to your side, say, to start a cartwheel? Try making that position, but move your torso so you can mobilize the hips. I know you can do it, so don’t even _make_ any faces, Kogane.”

 

It seemed to help just a tad bit, but my eyes were secretly glued onto his waist. Even though they aren’t as skillful as others (Hunk miraculously is the best dancer I have seen in my _entire life_ ), they captivated all the attention I had.

 

Giving my approval after a minute of intensely watching those fucking hips, we attempted the moves once again, improving at a sluggish rate. At this rate, it was just an excuse to hold Keith, to be honest. And maybe get abnormally close to each other.

 

“Okay, so now that Marc Anthony isn’t playing… oh shit, oh FUCK!”

 

“LANCE, GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!” Bianca yodeled, and I dragged Keith down with me. It was _our_ song. Every one of us has a song dedicated to each sibling, and Bianca made this specific one iconic for me: “Rompe” by _Daddy Yankee_ , which blasted through her car when we egged her ex’s house.

 

 

“YOU KNOW!” I winked at Keith, whispering the lyrics, and ran into her arms, moving to the beat. _Rompe, rompe, rompe_ … Mariana waltzed down the stairs, rubbing her eyes at the sight. Bianca was shaking her lower ass, and I was practically belly-dancing, sticking my tongue out at the sleep-deprived demon.

 

“It’s too fucking early for you guys to be weird.”

 

“Come on, Mariana. You know you like this song.” Bianca made kissy faces, the two of us provoking the shit out of our younger sibling. Keith had zero clue what was going on, keeping his hand on his mouth. _Is he going to laugh? Are we going to be blessed by his precious, once-in-a-lifetime laughter_?

 

Mariana shoved right passed me, slumping over to the coffee maker, but I wouldn’t have her blow me off. Softly snaking my hands into her own, I rolled my body down, taking her with me. “¿Yo Baby, que es la que hay?” My voice was in harmony with Daddy Yankee’s, Bianca bursting out in tears from snickering too hard. And I swear, I heard Keith murmur something similar to ‘that’s fucking hot,’ but didn’t comment on it afterwards. Right now was about cheering Mariana up, being the Queen of Grogginess every morning.

 

\--

 

“You look exhausted.” Keith’s voice sounded a bit shaky, eventually ~~(coerced to)~~ joining in on our dance party. “And you never told me you could dance so well… I’ve been lied to.”

 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, I guess.” That came out so wrong, fuck, please don’t interpret it as a snarky response.

 

The edges of his mouth curved up ever so slightly, leaning in with what felt like a conniving aura surrounding his frame. “Oh yeah? Do tell. I’m quite interested in finding out all the recherché sides of you.”

 

“Same here, pretty boy.” I moved my head even closer to his own, a smirk forming against my will.

 

“You want to know about me?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“You won’t find that out to be easy.”

 

“Try me, I can be very patient when I need to.”

 

“Maybe you just liked to be teased.”

 

“And _maybe_ Keith Kogane just wants someone to be as equal of a tease.”

 

“I don’t know about that one, I think you enjoyed being at my mercy.”

 

“Playing dirty. I dig that.”

 

Papa nearly ripped the door down, filling the room with his negative energy immediately after stepping in. What a way to ruin development, papa. His unnecessarily long grumbles of misery startled mama, who was on her way to start prepping dinner. Keith inquisitively looked at me, but I didn’t have any answer as to why papa was acting so aggravated.

 

The clock read 5:27, and I figured that if nobody would come down, I’d cook dinner, since the two adults of the house were locking themselves in the master bedroom to vent. Mama sacrificed herself to hear his overly-exaggerated complaints, after all, and I wouldn’t let her go down in vain.

 

Sitting up in a frenzy, I navigated my way through the pile of toys Zoe left abandoned, and Keith followed right behind me, not even three steps away. “Alright, what’s in the fridge…. Ooh, let’s make arroz con pollo!” 

 

Keith’s head poked out above my shoulders, checking to see what I was getting out of the meat drawer. “What’s arroz con pollo?”

 

“Chicken with rice, but I make it differently than mama. Hunk and I perfected this recipe on our own in ninth grade: you’ll be salivating so hard it could rival Niagara Falls.” Tapping him with my free hand, I set all the preparations out, boiling some water before I chopped the chicken. “You don’t have to help dude, you’re the guest.” A face of guilt was spreading on his features, but Keith obeyed my words, and observed from the kitchen table – not before asking me to teach him how to cook the dish, though. “Fine, fine… how I make it, I dice up the chicken fairly small – don’t you dare shred it, I’ll slaughter you – and we just put a pinch of salt and black pepper on the chicken. To make the rice, you boil water and put butter or olive oil in it, pour the rice in, and mix it with Sazón and saffron. The rice only takes a few minutes, so back to the chicken… I heat it up with oil in a skillet and sear the cubes until they’re golden-brown. Take it out after about ten minutes, and in the same pan, heat up some diced veggies. Preferably onions, tomatoes, and green peppers. Since the chicken would be done, you combine all of it together, and add some green olives. If you were daring, you could switch it out for jalapeños. Did you catch all of that?” I peered behind my shoulder, seeing Keith leaning on his palm, a calm expression on his face.

 

“I recorded it on my phone.”

 

“Tsk, rude. The polite thing to do would be to write it down.”

 

“We both now I’m not the type to be _that_ polite.” _Another suggestive comment on his behalf_. My cheeks were flaming hot, but I mentally blamed that on the steam coming from the rice. The radio was still playing, but Mariana switched it to the alternative station after witnessing our risqué dance moves, and Keith’s airy chuckle stole my focus from the pan in my hand. “ _’She’s Casual’_ is such a good song, I don’t know how I never even heard of them.”

 

I pointed the wooden spoon, soaked with Sazón-water, at him, squinting. “Listen, first of all, it’s because you listen to bands like _My Chemical Romance_ when you walk into a fucking rock-cafe. Secondly, you’re distracting me from my cooking, I’ll kick your ass.”

 

“You wouldn’t know I was listening to them if you never heard of them.”

 

“Keith, fuck off, before I pour this down your stupid alien jeans.”

 

“Kinky.”

 

Groaning, I flicked pepper in his direction, it getting on his tongue, because the idiot kept his mouth open. “As much as this lovely banter is turning into a rather evocative conversation, I really need to focus on this, before they all eat me for dinner. Xavier’s scary when he’s starving, and I’m not taking the blame if I burn one single piece of rice.” Keith apologized profusely, and agreed that I should try not to make this a murder party instead of a happy dinner.

 

Once the delectable aroma of dinner began sifting through the air, my siblings were lured into the kitchen, and filled the room with more chatting. I personally didn’t mind others speaking to one another while I cooked, I just couldn’t multitask when it came to making food. Particularly when the person was Keith. The boy was enough of a distraction on his own, with the _horrendous_ mullet, flawless complexion, a sweet figure… but I wouldn’t admit it out loud.

 

After the incident at the hotel, I was confused about what the two of us were. Notably, the amount of physical contact lessened after I dropped the bomb about Nyma, creating a small void in my heart. I wanted Keith to be around me, cuddle me, kiss me… I just craved him in general. _Maybe it’s more than just a crush, Lance_.

 

Shuddering at the thought, I refused to let my libido plague my thoughts, and directed all that energy into cooking. Xavier and his malevolent-glare helped the situation, adding more of a reason to avoid the boy I had the biggest, limerent feelings for.

 

\--

 

The dinner was a success, and the whole family engaged in numerous cheerful discussions, even dad. Keith was accepted by them all, even being invited by Bianca to visit the beach tomorrow. He declined almost _instantaneously_. Noted – Keith possibly doesn’t enjoy the beach.

 

After packing up the scarce leftovers with Finn, and saying our goodbyes to Xavier, Mama excused Keith and I with an all-knowing tone behind it. _Sketchy_.

 

Since Xavier left, that meant I had the room all to myself, and I’d be damned if I wouldn’t make the best out of this chance. Keith offered to use his Netflix account and watch _How to Get Away with Murder_ , recalling my recommendation from about a month ago.

 

And me, being the complete idiot I am, forgot that there would be sex scenes practically every episode.

 

This one, in particular, was Connor and Oliver’s first hookup of the series.

 

Absolutely embarrassed to the core of my being, I shakily looked over at Keith, about to say that we could skip the scene – but _holy fucking shit_ he was biting his lip. His eyes were fixed on the screen, shifting on the bed every so often. The headphones we were sharing pulled out of my ear, Keith pausing the episode as quick as possible.

 

Reaching down to get it in the dark room, his eyes grew with panic. “Ah, you can play it, I just need to get my earbud back…” My hand touched something that most definitely wasn’t the earbud, nor the laptop, and I heard a faint whimper. “Keith…”

 

“Oh my God.”

 

“Keith, do you have a **_hard-on_**?”

The poor guy couldn’t get any redder, and covered the sight of his aroused face as soon as we locked eyes. No, not on my watch. He teased me, and I’ll take my chances when I get them.

 

Every time I would move the slightest bit, his breath hitched. “Keith, it’s fine. Can I…?” His fingers spread out over his eyes, so he could gaze at me between them. A cheesy countenance developed on me, as I waited for his approval. With a sheepish nod, I continued stroking his thighs, progressively getting closer with each movement. Once I reached the top of his jeans, I positioned myself to straddle him, unlooping the belt he secured earlier today. Keith’s hands fell flat onto the bed after I unzipped his ~~gaudy~~ jeans, gawking at the gray trunks he had on.

 

Diving in with a massive grin, my fingers dipped underneath the band of his jeans and underwear, carefully tugging them down to uncover his boner – and God, it was not what I was expecting. “La-ance, you don’t have to – _fuuuuuck_ ,” His hiss reverberated in my ears, an indication that he enjoyed a firm grasp.

 

Leaning down to his face, I smoothly swirled my hand around the base, his mouth having the tiniest opening. “Tell me what you like, I want to make you feel good.” Keith nodded at my whisper, guiding me through what he likes with the quietest of sounds. I decided to try something new, and I lifted his shirt up, eyeing his whole upper-torso. _God, he’s so built_. Trailing my free-hand on his stomach, I hovered over his nipples, and secured eye contact with him, before grazing them.

 

The gruff wail he let out answered my curiosity: he’s extremely sensitive there.

 

“Lance… go… ah, faster…”

 

I remembered what he did to me, and I abruptly stopped jerking him off, wearing a wry smirk. “What’s the magic word, Keith?” Squeezing his left nipple, he yelped squeakily, arching forward from the touch.

 

“Fuck, Lance, please.”

 

Acquiescing to his begging, I sped up the pace, gradually applying more pressure each time I arrived at the base. Keith clutched at the sheets with intense power, gritting his teeth to avoid making sounds. “Keith, don’t stay silent… I like hearing you.” Biting down on his neck, a fierce, lusty moan dragged out from his throat, beginning to shake under me.   

 

“I’m gonna… ah, shit, don’t stop -“  His chatter died down once he was on the verge of climaxing, but before he would get to orgasm, I scooted down, and placed his length in my mouth. Keith leapt up from his position, thrusting even harder than before, a string of grunts rewarding me for my efforts. Both of my hands roamed around his chest, pinching or caressing his tender nipples whenever they landed on them. Not too long after, he howled as silent as possible, trembling when he released in my mouth. “God…”

 

It may have been a bit gross, but I swallowed it down, and wiped my mouth after, licking my lips to clean off any left. “You alright?” Keith’s eyes were still glazed over, and it settled in – he wanted to go again for a second time. “Uh, Keith…”

 

“Come here,” he wrapped his arms around my waist, sitting me down on his legs. Our foreheads were touching, staring at one another fervently. The tension was bubbling overboard, and I couldn’t deal anymore – I pressed my lips onto his, nails digging into his back when he deepened it. _Maybe he likes me back. Is that possible, is my good karma making a return after so long_? Subconsciously, I grinded lightly on his boner, our moans mixing in with one another. Shit, I like him. His teeth clanked against mine, nervously chortling against my mouth.

 

“I like you so **fucking** much, Keith,” I blurted after we parted, and I didn’t realize what I admitted until his elated face fell.

 

What did I do?

 

Keith buried his head into my shoulder, voice muffled against the cloth. “I… I’m sorry, Lance.” My heart exploded, turning into ashes from his words. “I only wanted this to be a casual thing, y’know? Friends with benefits.”

 

They always claim that heartbreak will make you drown in a sea of misery, one deeper and darker than the ocean of rejection. However, in this moment, I was engulfed in flames, passing the stage of hurt, and regret… I was disappointed, infuriated. Anger boiled up in my stomach, until I felt all the things I bottled up detonated.

 

“Get off of me.”

 

Forcefully shoving him off of me, I threw the clothes at him, my hands twitching from rage.

 

His face oozed confusion, as his eyebrows furrowed shortly after slipping back into his clothes. “What the fuck is your problem?”

 

“ _MY_ problem? Do you know how much you have been _leading_ me on, Keith? You… you act like you’re this puzzle of endless and rare pieces; that you’re better than a lot of people, or that you are hot shit. But you know what you are?” Jamming my index finger into his chest, I wanted nothing more than to kick him out of my room. “You’re nothing more than a **fraud** , you’re just a lying _bastard_ who thinks it’s okay to play with my feelings! I am not going through this again! I deserve better, for Christ’s sake!”

 

Keith slapped my face, fuming with intense wrath. “Me? _Me_?! Lance, what about you?! You pretended to be some cocky know-it-all, but the real **you** is a pussy. You can’t handle yourself, you make everyone else worry _for_ you. All of your friends are pushed away by the fear you have of them leaving you - hell, your fears outweigh any hope you fucking have, and you easily mistake something for being anything it’s not. Especially us. Since when did you convince yourself that I was interested in a relationship?”

 

The remaining pieces of my heart burned down with every point he made, transforming into dust. “You can talk all the shit you want about me, that just shows how much of a low person you truly are, but talk like that about my friends once more, and I will not hold back.” I shoved him, my vision going hazy. _It’s happening_. “Maybe I’m a loser, maybe I have severe anxiety, maybe I have been through a fucking lot and put on a false act, but deep in my heart, I would never stoop to insulting someone else on things out of their control. I can’t read your mind, and if I was able to, I would have ended this a long time ago.” My throat hurt from yelling, but my fury covered up the fact that I was physically aching. “Don’t fucking deny the fact that you lead me on, especially with how you’ve been acting.”

 

“You son of a bitch.”

 

“Are you really the one to say that to me, Keith Kogane?”

 

Keith picked me up from my collar, and slammed me against the wall. “You’re gonna wish you never said that.”

 

“What are you going to do, kill me? I’d love to see you get what you deserve afterwards. I can’t _fucking_ stand to be in the same room as you right now. I’m **disgusted**.”

 

His fist collided with my nose, making me stumble back. Glaring back up at him, I wiped the impacted area, blood seeping out.

 

“Shit, Lance- “

 

The scared look in his eyes didn’t stop me, I was furious. I was an uncontrollable fire, fueled by gasoline. And I tackled him to the floor, banging his head on the floor. Struggling for dominance, he ended up on top, head-butting me with extreme force.

 

 _That’s it_. “ **Get out of my house!** ” I threw him off of my body, packing his bags and tossing it to him. “Get the hell out, Keith.”

 

“You think I know my way around here!? How am I supposed to go home now?!”

 

“I don’t give a single fuck!” Slamming the door open, I pushed him out, reaching the stairs. “Don’t even _think_ about coming back here, I don’t want you in my sight.”

 

The whole family was coming to see the spectacle, surprised expressions forming on all of their faces.

 

Keith stomped back to me, smashing my face into both of his palms. “We’re continuing this discussion, Lance, even if I lose a limb. We are _not_ involving your family in this.”

 

“No, I refuse to!”

 

His snarl was enough of a warning, as I bolted towards the bathroom, slamming my hands on the door, because the lock has been broken for years. To no avail, apparently, as Keith body slammed it open – times like these are when having strong people around you is a _bad thing_ – and closed the two of us in, blocking it from opening with a shoe. _Creative asshole_.

 

Sighing, I sat down on the edge of the bathtub, my hands enveloping my face. “I really don’t want to talk about this, Keith, could you please _leave_?” My voice cracked on the last word, and the stages of grief were going backwards – now, after acting out like that, I was hit with the familiar sense of rejection.

 

“No, we’re going to work this out, Lance.” He bent down in front of me, ripping my hands away into his, eyes moving back-and-forth. “I don’t care… what just happened. It was childish, and I apologize.” _You can’t do that, Keith_. “I just… I have really _bad_ trust issues, to put it simply. Some bad things have happened to me, like most others, but I didn’t intend on hurting your feelings. Okay? You gotta believe me on that one.”

 

Ignoring my lips quivering, I decided on what would be best: if this was a real confrontation, I should speak my mind one-hundred-percent honestly, a heart-to-heart. “I – I am so sorry. I acted out on my surprise, and ended up getting the both of us bleeding.” Sadly smiling, I finally looked him in the eyes, his face changing from attentive to upset. “Yeah, I thought we were turning into… something, at least. More than fuck buddies, but less than a couple. I’m so into you and I let a false hope drive my actions rather than rationality, and in that sense, I hurt you too, didn’t I?”

 

Swallowing, I was about to continue my rant, but Keith started before I could form words. “You didn’t hurt me, Lance. It really is my fault, and equally both of ours for beating the shit out of one another.” Snorting at his words, I could only imagine what would follow that statement. He was a different kind of enigma now, and I was gifted with a clear vision of how to complete the puzzle known as Keith Kogane. “You pack a pretty hefty punch; you know?”

 

Both of us elapsed into a period of unstoppable snickers, a twinge of pain still lingering within my soul. “I really do care about you, Lance.” The delightful sounds died out, my attention being ripped out of me and placed into his own hands. “When I’m ready, I think… it could be possible. You and me. Just, right now, I’m still battling with my own past.” Keith’s palms were tremoring, and I found myself breaking at the scene of him struggling.

 

We’re more alike than I originally had pictured.

 

“Tell me about yourself, Keith.” Shakily grinning, I boldly rubbed into his tense palms, hoping he wouldn’t mind if I asked him to share his troubles with me. “I… I trust you, and I just want to help you get better, alright? You don’t have to be trapped and alone with just the memories of a past calamity.”

 

A comfortable silence overtook the bathroom, the two of us communicating through physical contact. The goosebumps dispersing over his arms, the reassuring clasp I had on his hands, his mouth repeatedly opening and closing-

 

“My parents abused me as kid.”

 

It hit me like a hurricane – the epiphany I had the instant he uttered those words, as if it all made sense.

 

“My mom was cheating on her husband with my father, and eventually divorced him to get with my dad. I was born shortly after, and lived a fairly happy life the first few years. I think the emotional trauma began around elementary, when we moved to the city all the way from Korea. Dad had multiple affairs, mom was jumping from job-to-job… all the stress bundled up, and was placed on me. They claimed that they stayed together for me, or that I was the reason why they couldn’t live happy lives. The subtle abuse evolved into neglect, then physical. Mom would whip me whenever I didn’t get good grades, but dad was even worse: his drunken nights were especially bad, but he would beat me senseless after coming home – if he did, always where it wouldn’t be visible.” His eyes were still fixated on me, and I nodded for him to continue, even though the strain of his voice was becoming more evident.

 

“They never stopped, even when I was in middle school, but in eighth grade… my dad killed my mom, and not long after, he passed from a stroke. Doctors deemed it was from ‘overworking himself,’ but it was obvious to me: taking care of a son who was only good for being a human punching bag took the life out of him. And being impressionable, and alone, I acted out like a madman. Nobody ever adopted me from the orphanage I was placed in, because I would come back with new scars and bruises from picking fights at school or on the street. For a period of time, it was more odd to see my face clear of wounds rather than covered with them.”

 

Stopping to catch his breath, the story-telling pursued, but not before an alarming sigh. “In tenth grade, I came to realize that I was attracted to guys, and became even more of an outcast in the school. Since I couldn’t date anyone at school, I reached out to older men, the youngest being a third-year college student, and a forty-year-old business man. All of my short-lived relationships… they tended to be toxic, but not even close to what my parents made me endure. The scar – the scar you found the other day, that was from my last relationship. He was possessive to the point that I felt imprisoned, and once I tried to run away, he jabbed the pair of hair scissors he had there, six times, before I managed to escape.”

 

“Lance, the point is… damn, I’m _petrified_ of being in a situation like that again. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemies, nonetheless force you to deal with someone like me. I need to recover before I jump into anything, alright?”

 

The solemnness in his expressive words was enough to make me hold him in my arms, wanting to erase the gruesome history he encountered. “Don’t worry, Keith, I understand now… nobody should have to go through that.” Keith nodded, and the two of us let go, standing up from the uncomfortable positions we were in. “I’m grateful that you shared that with me, but hopefully you can – no, we can move on from the pasts that haunt us. We’re in this together, whether you like that or not, mullet-boy.”

 

Keith bumped my hip with his own, and pointed at my face. “Maybe you should clean yourself up before you start saying wise things, you look like a hot dog.”

 

“I’ll show you a hot dog!”

 

“Whatever, just go wash your fac- “

 

“Dude, have you even seen what yours looks like?”

 

“…..”

 

The two of us fought for the mirror, checking out all the blemishes and discoloration on our bodies. I shrieked in horror, blood coated my cheeks and lips, starting to get crusty on the skin. Keith, however, was loaded with blackening wounds, wailing whenever his fingers touched a forming bruise.

 

We were fucked up, quite physically and emotionally, but we made a breakthrough.

 

\--

 

“¡Ay, caramba! …. Alright, now that you two boys are done playing rough, go clean the living room up as your punishments.”

 

Mama pushed all the nightly chores onto the two of us, not even giving Keith some slack for being a guest. That’s what you get for beating her hijo, after all.

 

The bottom floor was a complete disaster: crayon skids were everywhere, a billion snot-filled tissues were piled up, and Zoe’s toys (with a mysterious sticky coating) had to be distributed on every inch of the floor. At least nobody has to superglue them back together this time, otherwise nothing would have been completed until breakfast came around.

 

“I call dibs on the toys.”

 

“Lance, I take back that bonding moment we just had. I hate you.”

 

“What bonding moment?”

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?! I cradled you in my arms! You were completely awake!”

 

“…. No hablo ingles.”

 

Cheekily whistling, I strolled right past him, collecting eleven toys at a time and placing them back in the kids’ room. I lucked out, only having to make four trips back-and-forth, and I just observed Keith reluctantly cleaning up the mountain made of mucus-y tissues. And I may have snapped a few photos to use as memes while he worked, but he doesn’t need to know that.

 

“Alright, I’m fucking exhausted. Let me sleep…”

 

“Not until you scrub your hands for a good hour, mullet.”

 

“Fuck off.”

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mama sanchez knows whats up 
> 
> im dead inside & i need to stop referencing songs but im literally a jukebox   
> also if someone comments on the anxiety its written like this bc of how i experience it. just bringing that up again in case


	8. EIGHT: Spanish Sahara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *** might want to play Spanish Sahara by the Foals once the last scene kicks in, just do it. fucking DO IT FOR THE WHOLE EMO EXPERIENCE  
> TRIGGER WARNING - rape/foursome (i got teary-eyed while writing it but be aware), abuse/fighting, anxiety, blood, &suicidal tendencies  
> \--  
> In which Lance has the munchies, his past is brought up, Shiro was an angsty teen before becoming #dad, Nyma needs to go away, and Keith??!?!?!??!!!!??!?! 
> 
> anyways. im angsty and started crying near the end bc it reminded me so much of life is strange and im gonna go rot in my room now and decay until im just a pile of rubble okay bYEEE

** 3:14 AM **

 

My eyes fluttered open on their own, a vibrating sensation coursing through my back. I rolled over, but something sleepily grunted in reply, my heartbeat almost as fast as the speed of light. _Did I accidentally fall asleep with Hunk again? Did Shiro spend the night to calm down from an attack_? Forming a million questions did nothing to cure my curiosity of who was spooning me, and with a wave of newfound confidence, I flipped myself around to the left side, my nose grazing Keith’s.

 

Holy fucking shit, that’s right. I was ~~snuggling~~ bunking with Keith for the night.

 

A bolt of lightning hit my heart, as I soundlessly wheezed, prying myself from the grip I never wanted to leave. If I’m up at this time, I should try to brighten up a bit with coffee.

 

Keith drowsily held the pillow close to him instead, unconsciously burying his face into it. _Cute_. And leaving before I could see the drool he would form on the sheets, I grabbed my phone and darted out, being as silent as humanely possible. The only obstacle I faced was the stairs, and luckily, none of them made the deafening-creak as I pranced down.

 

The kitchen light was still on, and I counted my blessings as they came, because I know, deep down, that I would get reversed-karma later. Allura coerced me into saving her some of the arroz con pollo, and I wouldn’t go back on my words… _that’s my ninja way_. Instead, I turned up the radio a bit to get myself pumped up, just enough so I could make out the lyrics, and took out the potatoes, chicken-flavored ramen, and some brownie mix – if I’m going to sneak food in, might as well go fucking _ham_ on cooking.

 

 _Beastie Boys’_ “Brass Monkey” played, and my hips moved back-and-forth almost instantly, tapping my foot to the beat. One of my guilty pleasure songs, I must admit. Peeling the skin off the potatoes, I boiled the water for the ramen, and mixed the brownie makings in the rustic-looking bowls. Mama really needs some new cooking supplies… maybe for Christmas.

 

“Brass monkey junkie, that funky monkey…”

 

While placing the cut-up fries and brownies in the oven, I opened up Snapchat, and faceswapped with a photo of Keith I took earlier. Recording the video, I dabbed and whipped, and distributed it to the whole squad, along with Bianca and Mariana.

 

In the duration of the munchies-cooking session, the most iconic-meme songs played: “It’s Tricky”, “Gettin' Jiggy Wit It”, “No Scrubs”, “This Is How We Do It”, “Gangster's Paradise”, “Work It”, “Wobble”, and “Buttons.” The station reminded me of the shitpost-playlist Pidge created for my birthday. It was perfect, I could swoon for them.

 

Of course, the night wasn’t completed until “Bootylicious” started. Just on the first note, I wolf-whistled, a cheeky grin spreading on my lips.

 

Taking out the fries, I shook my butt to the beat, mouthing the words as I moved onto the brownies. Just playing around with the ramen noodles, I heard a snort from behind me, and my heart dropped to the floor, scared for death. Slowly taking a glance back with squinting eyes, I locked eyes with Keith, who had his arms crossed and the worst bedhead I have ever seen.

 

“Who the fuck dances to ‘Bootylicious’ at four in the fucking morning…” He was restraining a laugh, inching near me with every word, and staring down at the ramen.  “Okay, Lance, before I lose my sanity… am I really seeing a whole pot of ramen with a fork in it, brownies, and fries… at this late of an hour…?”

 

Shrugging nervously, I squeaked a “Yes?” and he facepalmed, grunting for a prolonged period of time. “Listen, I never share my munchies… but I’ll allow it this time. Grab a fork, gremlin.”

 

“Greml- You know what, never mind, I’m digging in.”

 

He had no idea where the cutlery drawer was at, so I just handed him one from the drying board, too lazy to go across the counter to get it. Literally stuffing my face, I had five brownies in a row, a whole plate of fries, and almost half a pan’s worth of ramen. When I was slurping some noodles to piss Keith off (he has an extreme adversity to the sounds made when eating), he dropped his fork in the pan, and leaned in, sucking the noodles into his own mouth.

 

“Keif, whut te phuk…” I muttered against the ramen, and before I could ask what he was planning on doing, he smacked his lips onto mine, and swept all the noodles out of my mouth with his tongue, and happily ate it. Giving him the stare of death, I waited until he was about to eat a fry, and I bit it right out of his fingers.

 

Apparently, mimicking his rambunctious actions makes him even more pissed, as he leapt off of his chair, and chased me around the kitchen, without making a loud sound. Each time we circled around, I would steal some of the food on his plate, lifting up my middle finger, and the cycle continued.

 

“Lance, you bastard…” After fifty centuries of hunting each other down, we settled back into our seats, breathing heavily. Too much exertion in the morning, before the coffee even was brewed.

 

“You… you started it…”

 

“You made those… gross sound effects… on pur-purpose.”

 

Nodding in agreement, the two of us continued the binge-eating of the junk food, occasionally cracking a few jokes and throwing meaningless insults at each other. Pidge’s late-night-text-spam started, Keith watching from over my shoulder. Maybe I should add him back into the group chat again.

****

** KINKY SPACE NUNS **

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : y’all im gonna shove this remote up matt’s ass he’s so annoying

 **Pidgey CP 45** : if I hear him holler “Nice Legs Daisy Dukes Makes A Man Go DOOT DOOT” once mOOOre im gonna fuckkcingngng kIll him

 **Pidgey CP 45** : HESS SO ANNOYINGGNGNGNGNGNGNG HELP

 **Pidgey CP 45** : IM ABOUT TO PULL A SHIA LABEOUF AND EAT HIM

 **Pidgey CP 45** : UPDATE HE KICKED MY ASS AT MARIO KART IM GONNA HAVE TO KILL HIM HE RUINED MY FIVE YEAR STREAK

 **Pidgey CP 45** : y’all’d’ve would’nt’ve if I’d’nt’ve

 

 **Hunky Man:** pidge you’re slipping into your country talking again

 **Hunky Man:** guess this is serious

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : CLOSE THE GODDAMN DOOR FUCKINGNGNGG HES SO ANNOYING IM ABOUT TO BEHEAD HIM

 **Pidgey CP 45** : if he was a song he’s by sandstorm

 

 **caBROn** : keith says you should calm down and he has no idea what you just said

 **caBROn** : also pidge just tell shiro to come over he’ll get him out of your hairs

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : good idea good idea see lance when you actually try

 **Pidgey CP 45** : still an annoying piece of shite but thanKS TIME TO TRY

 **Pidgey CP 45:** <3<3<3<3<3

 

 **#DAD** : alright I’ll be there in two min I was already on my way

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : whats that supposed to mean

 

 **Allurduh** : guess I wont be sleeping again tonight

 

 **caBROn** : shiro wym

 **caBROn** : now im confused

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : oh my god Ohmy goODDDDDD GUYS

 **Pidgey CP 45** : THEY’RE TOTOLALAYY MAKING OUT RN I NEED A PARAMEDIC

 

 **caBROn** : LMAO SHIRO GET SOME DICK

 

 **#DAD:** we aren’t making out pidge calm down

 **#DAD** : haven’t you ever heard of a thing called htgawm we’re binge watching it again

 **#DAD** : I practically just saved you

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : don’t lie to me dad I saw you cheating on mom with matt im disturbed why my owN BROTHER THAT’S LIKE A NEW FORM OF INCEST

 

 **Allurduh** : send nudes if you guys make out

 

 **Hunky Man** : ahhhhh pervlurruh strikes again

 

 **caBROn** : goodbye fuck all of you

 

 

 

 

Keith and I were lurking in the group chat, reading the speedy responses they kept sending everyone. What a good way to start my morning.

 

\--

“Alright, I’m off.”

 

Papa kissed Mama goodbye, and hugged Zoe goodbye, leaving for work. It was only six in the morning, and I haven’t been able to go back to sleep. Bianca took her turn today, cooking breakfast for everyone (which was only pancakes, since she’s not that great of a chef), and brewing the strongest fucking coffee I’ve had in ages, I probably grew new chest hair from the first sip alone.

 

A knock came on the door in the middle of breakfast with the whole family, mama asking me to open it up.

 

“But mama…“

 

She wouldn’t cave in to my begging, and with a few seconds of complaining, I headed towards the door, hoping it would just be some UPS package – but at this early of an hour? Highly doubt it, it’s probably the Catholic stoner that’s next door to ask us to look after his dog again. He needs to pull himself together.

 

The knocking was non-stop, and it started to irk me even more. Swinging the door open, I gritted my teeth, muttering: “Who the hell is there?!”

 

“Thought you moved, my love.”

 

My heartbeat halted, scared for my life. Nyma’s here. It’s not August. But she’s here, in front of my family’s house. What would she have done if I wasn’t here, would she hurt someone else in my family?

 

“Y-you… get the fuck away!” Grabbing the vase near the door, I stood in a fighting position, Nyma not phased at all. Everyone at the table gasped in shock, Mariana hustling up first. “You need to leave me alone, before I end up putting you in the hospital this time. Te voy a matar!”

 

Mariana pushed me to the side, eyeing Nyma up-and-down. _That’s right, she knows what happened_. Even though I couldn’t see the monster in front of the door, I could sense the lopsided smirk she always wore around me. Trying to calm my mind down, I looked behind me, Keith and Mama already on their way over to us.

 

“Who’s at the door?” Mama’s accent gave her away, Nyma peeking out from the small creak, despite Mariana attempting to close her out.

 

“Momma Sanchez! It’s been a while!”

 

Mariana let go of the door, and picked up Nyma by her collar, the most intense glare in both of their eyes. “Don’t fucking call my mom that. Get out of our property, before I skin you alive with my own nails, _pinche puta_.”

 

The tranquil vibe we had at breakfast dissipated in a matter of seconds, the rest of my siblings hurrying over to the showdown. Mama was clearly confused, staring between Mariana, Nyma and I. Bianca joined in with Mariana, crossing her arms across her chest.

 

“Just wanted to talk to Lance a bit, I don’t get what the problem is. It’s been years!”

 

“ _’Years’_ my ass.”

 

Mama finally stepped in, holding Mariana’s twitching wrist. “Mariana! That’s enough.” She shyly backed off after the scolding, aggressively heaving in Nyma’s general direction. “Nyma, what’s brought you back here? Didn’t you and Lance break up?”

 

Nyma bounced on the balls of her feet, a habit of hers when she contemplated what to say. She’s going to lie; she’s going to cover it up. _Just like I did since tenth grade. What makes the two of us different_?

 

You were the prey, and Nyma was the predator.

 

“Mama, that’s enough.”

 

Gulping, I took a couple of steps ahead, lifting my head up to meet Nyma’s stare. Don’t be frightened, she’s not insuperable. “Nyma, first of all, don’t blatantly lie. Keith and I attended your wedding not even a full-month ago, and then you show up in Brentwood, at my family’s house, with no warning. I found out from Rolo that you’d be coming in August, but it’s still fucking _July_. What is wrong with you?!” Running a hand through my bedhead, I continued to spit fire, no filter on whatever was being spoken. “Secondly, you have no right to be near me. After what you did to me in tenth grade, I’d expect you to feel some fucking regret for that. It was disgusting and nobody fucking got in trouble for it! Do you know how terrible of a depression I went through after that night?”

 

Nyma’s lighter came into my field of vision, as she lit up a cigarette, puffing a cloud of smoke in my face with a demented laugh. “Lighten up, pretty boy, it was just a little fun the boys and I had- “

 

“What part of rape is fucking fun?! It’s nauseating, in fact, extremely revolting. In what way do you think that’s entertaining? I was crushed.”

 

“Lance, it’s all in good spirits. Don’t panic like it just happened, my love.”

 

“Wait, what happened?” Bianca’s voice cracked, holding mama in her arms.

 

Only then, did I realize I blurted out the truth, one that nobody beyond Mariana knew in my family. Her gaze was sympathetic, yet filled with a burning fury behind the specks, comforting mama also. The littlest two had no idea what was going on, Finn was being restrained by Keith, and Bianca appeared to be perfectly fine – and as her brother, I understand that she’s holding it together. Dad nor Xavier was here, and as the second-oldest, she had to be the strongest afterwards.

 

Nyma’s cancer-filled smoke was still lingering, even after crushing the cigarette under her boots. _She knew I hated tobacco more than anything, but her habit came back_. The slightly-discolored teeth of hers made an appearance, welcoming herself into our house. Ashes were making a trail on the wood, making my irritation double each second.

 

Hushed words were being exchanged between everyone, but I was hyperaware of her shoes loudly hitting the floor. Keith’s hand interlocked with my own, waking me up from my trance. A reassuring curve grew on his lips, and focused his attention on Nyma, leading the two of us over to her.

 

What is he doing? Is he going to say anything?

 

His grasp grew even tighter, alarming me. What was he thinking-

 

“Sorry, but if you don’t leave, there will be repercussions. Shay’s told me more than enough about you, and I’m sure your husband wouldn’t like to know about your involvement with the Sphinx gang. Right?” Keith’s finger poked her around the collarbone area, a menacing tone in his words. “You hurt Lance, and I won’t go back on what I say. So, walk your horrible-self out of this room, and go back to Orlando, or wherever the hell you live now, because none of us deserve to be around someone as toxic as you. Understand?”

 

The infamous witch-cackle of Nyma’s pierced my ears, as she stuck her tongue out, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. “What’s that got to do with me? You’re not as good of a person that you make yourself out to be. Remember Sendak?” Audibly swallowing, Keith squinted his eyes at her, starting to violently shake. “He’s out of jail, and part of the Sphinx. Would a ‘horrible person’ tell you that much?”

 

The two of them vehemently locked eyes, the tension exploding across the room. I had no idea where to even start, or what to do, and remained silent. _Who was Sendak, why did they have such a negative effect on Keith_? He paled quickly, and what really stuck out… was that he let my hand go, covering the scar he explained the night before. _Shit, was this what I think it is? Was Sendak one of his past affections_?

 

Mariana broke the ice, smacking Nyma into the counter, and pointing a knife only inches from her jugular vein. “Don’t fuck with the Sanchez family, you barbaric twat.” Everyone, especially Nyma, screamed, telling her to stop what she was doing.

 

What the fuck is going on?!

 

“¡Ya basta!” Mama slapped the knife onto the floor, pushing the two girls away from each other. “Nyma, you need to leave immediately, or we’ll file a restraining order. _Comprende_?”

 

Mama and Mariana both pointed to the door in unison, the familiar Sanchez-death glare making an appearance. “And _never_ come back.” Nyma’s scoff sounded weary, flicking Keith and I off, and stomped off, dramatically slamming the front door in the process. As soon as the blonde monster left, all of their eyes were firmly planted on mine, even Elliot and Zoe’s, despite having no idea what just happened. I bet they’ll probably want answers now, they were left out from the truth.

 

Sighing, I felt my heart race, but there was no way out of this confrontation. They needed to figure out what happened, and I wasn’t going to let them be shielded from it any longer.

 

“Remember when I shut myself out in tenth grade? That’s when the whole thing happened.”

 

                                                           

 

** JANUARY 27th, 2013 **

 

“Lance, my man, it’s great to see you!”

 

Rolo’s trap house was filled to the brim, reeking of sweat, sex, alcohol, and weed. Some Kanye West song was blaring, as Hunk and I headed in, searching for Pidge around the drinks.

 

“Oi, you’re gonna regret that, bastard.”

 

Well, we found them.

 

Pidge was tackling some six-foot-five quarterback onto the floor, spilling both of their drinks on the floor, others cheering for the football player to beat up ‘the freak.’ But how could he? The poor guy was being torn apart by Pidge, certified black belt, self-defense master, taught by their brilliant brother and father. He even started to bleed on the ground, and Hunk had to shield his vision – he hates seeing gore, even if it’s fake ketchup.

 

“Come back and call me a ‘weirdo’ again once your body recovers, dickweed!”

 

And with a sneaker in the balls, the guy was gone. Rest in peace, my dude. Pidge highfived me, and escorted us around the house, telling us where everything was. They’ve been to Rolo’s house multiple times, and Hunk has only stopped by to pick them up, so it was appreciated. The rooms, however, were completely trashed, vomit and shitty beer staining the carpet. If this was my parents’ house, I would be cut up and cooked as a _shish kabob_.

 

However, Nyma surprised me from behind, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Heeeey, my love, I’ve been waiting~” The tiny peck on the back of my shoulder made me shiver, nervously snickering and turning to face her.

 

“Babe, you waited? So sweet.”

 

“Grooooossssssssssssss, we have underage kids here.” Hunk muttered, covering Pidge’s and his eyes from the scene.

 

The two of us laughed at his behavior, but maintained a fairly-pleasant exchange with everyone. Pidge brought up how the guy they just decked into the tenth dimension was calling them names, Nyma told them to fuck off, Hunk jumped in and commented on how Pidge will be placed into jail for their violent tendencies, and I eased the conversation, making it flow into something more pleasant. Like the fact that the kid Shiro in eleventh grade fell asleep in Forensics again, and we were supposed to perform a fake autopsy on it. _I had to partner up with another kid, who wore a shirt that had the Cookie Monster on it_.

 

 _Safe to say, I didn’t get a good grade on that assignment_.

 

Somewhere throughout the frenzied conversation, Nyma continued to hand me drinks, slowly tasting different each time.

 

“Yeah, and especially when Mr. Ortiz ate a kid’s lunch in front of the class because it wasn’t allowed? The school sucks, I can’t wait to be far away and in Physics.” Hunk’s babbling faded out, and the last thing I could make out was the screaming from “Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites” blasting off the walls.

 

_\--_

_“Hey, a casual affair_  
That could go anywhere  
And only for tonight”

My eyes were beginning to peel open, everything being blurrier than I remembered. Where the fuck am I?

 

A rag was wrapped around my mouth, and I couldn’t say anything, the room darkening with each second. What’s going on, who did this-

 

Three pairs of hands were exploring my body, sending shivers down my spine. _I don’t like this, get off_.

 

“My love, you’re awake? Let’s have some fun!”

 

Nyma’s drunken slurs made my pulse shoot up, straddling me down on the bare bed, two guys tying my hands up to the bedpost. _This isn’t happening, right? It has to be a dream_. The jeans I had on were cut off, along with my boxers, and the more-buff one lifted up my upper torso, unbuckling himself. _It’s not_. My yells were muffled, and each time I would try to even make a sound, the lanky-guy would slap my face.

 

Tears were stinging my eyes, and _Lanky_ tore off the rag, but shoved his dick in my mouth instantly. Nyma was undressing herself from what I could still see, and inched closer, the mattress squeaking with every movement. _Buff_ wouldn’t stop squeezing my ass-cheeks – at least, not until Nyma mounted me once again, forcing me inside. The three didn’t notice my violent trembles, and carried on with the drunken foursome, my body being scratched and slapped.

 

At one point, _Buff_ ’s fingers plunged into me, whimpers of pain erupting from me, but masked by the grunts and moans of _Lanky_ and Nyma.

 

I felt like my frame was bruised, my heart shattering with each passing second. _She used me. She’s using me right now, and I can’t do anything about it_.

 

Some scars heal over time, but this was one that keeps getting ripped open, salt being sprinkled across the whole wound. My body was aching, bleeding, and the three of them carried on, ripping me apart. Their actions were poison and I was over-absorbing everything, nearly fully-aware of what was happening. _I was drugged_.

 

Within those red cups of multi-flavored drinks she offered me, were remnants of roofies and _planning. This was_ planned _. Not just a drunken-escapade, she truly desired to violate me like this, didn’t she_?

 

Biting down on Lanky’s dick, he banged my head into the bedframe, yelping in pain. “What the fuck?!”

 

**_“HELP ME!!!!!”_ **

 

My voice was cracking, shaky, and broken, snot building up in my nose from sobbing the whole time. Nyma forcefully pushed me back down again, nails digging into my chest purposely. New openings were formed, blood trickling down and crusting over, her entertained laughter haunting me.

 

“Don’t you love me, Lance? You’ve never asked me what I wanted, and I needed to be satisfied… don’t you understand?” _Her words were encaging my heart, pins and needles stabbed inside of it_. “You… fuck, brought this on yourself.” I was drowning in a sea of rancorous illusions, Nyma beating into my mind that it was my fault. _Was it my fault_? No, you didn’t do anything wrong. _Why is she doing this_?

 

 

A trenchant, enraged yell made everyone turn around, Hunk and Rolo beating the door down. As soon as Hunk and I made eye contact, it was as if a switch turned on: despite Rolo sloppily dialing up the cops, Hunk stormed over, throwing the desktop straight at Nyma, her head gushing open immediately after. _Lanky_ got a hold of the pocket-knife he used to rip off my clothes, but Hunk shoved _Lanky’s_ hand into his own head, blood splattering from the sudden impact. I struggled to break free from the cuffs, _Buff_ still having the cuffs in his possession.

 

As if our minds connected, Hunk’s feet knocked Buff onto the floor, hitting the guy’s head on the hard floor repeatedly. “Where the fuck are the keys?! I’ll kill you!” Red was everywhere: on the wall, on the floor, on his shirt, on my body, on the knife. It was intruding in on my thoughts, a new feeling of panic flooding throughout my veins.

 

“Get me out! Get me out! I-I don’t, I don’t want to…” My throat constricted, my barely-audible weeps startling Rolo from outside the room. Is this anxiety? “ _H….el-p_ …”

 

 

Nyma started to come back to her senses, but not for long – Hunk had stolen the keys and knife, slashing her shoulder wide open while coming to my aid. “You… are **dead** , Lance!” Nyma kicked him off the bed, suffocating me afterwards. My breathing rapidly sped up, trying to latch onto any oxygen I could, but the calloused palms of hers was stronger. I couldn’t breathe, _I can’t breathe_. “You’re mine, my love, why are you trying to leave me?!”

 

Her face was so close, and I could clearly see the moment where Hunk head-locked her, hitting her spine with his knee a countless amount of times, cracking sounds startling my remaining sanity.

 

“That’s enough!” Rolo dragged her out of Hunk’s tight grasp, and held him back, slowly walking out of the room. “Pidge!!!!!!!!!!” Sirens were coming closer, and panicked yelps were seeping throughout the floors, naked people evacuating from the floor we were on. “Pidge! We need your help – fuck, Hunk, calm down! You almost _paralyzed_ her!”

 

A sneaker flung itself into the room, a heavy-breathing Pidge having an after-image from how fast they were running. “What’s wrong?!” Rolo struggled in tossing them the keys, Hunk kicking the air in an attempt to break free from the arms around him. “What the hell are these for-?“ Pidge’s eyes trailed around until they landed on me, a mixture of emotions shifting on their face.

 

“ _Lance_!”

 

The other sneaker they had on was thrown at Lanky, who was rising from the floor, and fell down once again from the shoe hitting their neck. Hunk’s vicious squeals and Pidge’s nervous pants were nothing compared to my soundless bawls, wheezing from the panic attack coming on.

 

After the key unlocked my cuffs, I was swiped up off the bed, and in their arms, hustling down the stairs. The front door was busted down, and the cops had pointed their guns towards us, shocked at the sudden gasps Pidge made. It took them a matter of seconds to realize what was happening, and the tallest one helped Pidge take me outside, wrapping a blanket around me from his car.

 

 _Buff_ managed to escape from the window, but the other cop car outside had already circled around the area, trapping them inside the perimeter. Rolo, who was already supporting a Berserk-Hunk, also held an unconscious Nyma and _Lanky_ , wobbling as he stepped off the stairs to the door.

 

My senses were closed off, all that remained was an overwhelming pang of anxiety, millions of intrusive ideas swimming in my mind.

 

\--

 

“It’s appalling; how fucking useless this class is.”

 

The ever-familiar voice stopped me in my tracks, shocked by the sudden outburst. It’s been five months since the… incident, and mama coerced me into going to a group-therapy session, and this was my first day.

 

But, an upper-classmen with a white tuff of hair had other plans than talking about our _problems_ today. “Discussing how school teachers understand, or how people can’t be as bad as we think… how does that help us, when we’re our own biggest bully? Why can’t you ever figure that out? Does that degree of yours have any validity behind it? Because all that I see is a woman who spouts the same nonsense my homophobic, racist, Christian grandmother would. Honestly, _fuck_ this class.”

 

Shiro knocked down the plastic chair, fists balled up in fury. _What a way to start my first appointment, huh_? He turned around, grabbed his bag, and stomped off, leaving five dollars behind. _Damn, what’s his problem_?

 

 

The therapist shot me a sympathetic glare, and pointed down to the money. “Would you mind giving that sex money to that Cracker-Jap heathen that just walked out? Tell him that he’s banned from my class, too?”

 

Cracker-Jap – what the fuck?

 

“Sure thing, you racist philistine. Suck your cheating husband’s dick once you get back home, why don’t you?” Swiping up the money, all the attendees busted out into cackles, the therapist oozing rage from the insult. Even though Shiro and I barely know each other, that was low, especially from a fucking _therapist_.

 

Navigating my way hurriedly through the building, I found Shiro sitting by the front door, smoking a cigarette.

 

“You know, you shouldn’t smoke inside, or smoke period. That’s bad for you.”

 

Bending down, I slipped the cigarette out of his mouth, and tossed it out the door, holding out my hand for the rest of his pack. A playful scoff escaped from his throat, digging in the hoodie’s little pocket for the cigs. “Mr. Know-It-All, huh? Here, go take a break.” Before smacking it in my hand, he dug another one out, and lit it up. “Just one more, before I lose my mind and, like, burn up that witch’s house or some shit.”

 

“Why would you burn it down?”

 

“Because she’s a walking-disaster who knows nothing about me.” His gaze moved up to meet my eyes, a wave of angst crashing down inside of me. Why… is he so intimidating? I never thought of anything even similar to being scared when it came to Shiro. “So, a _pack_ for your problems?”

 

“I don’t think that’s how the phrase goes.”

 

“That’s the whole point, Shakespeare. Sit down and chat away, because at least I try to help, unlike that judgmental liar in there.” Patting down at the moldy tile next to him, I caved in, leaning back on the wall. The silent hum of “ _Seven Nation Army_ ” was like a weird lullaby to me, Shiro tapping his fingers on his thighs while humming.

 

 _The first step of recovery is talking to someone_ , as papa told me numerous times. “I was violated a few months ago, and mama decided it was time… for me to get help.” Shiro’s stance stiffened up, his head leaning in a bit, as if to wordlessly signal for me to continue. “Um, and, uh… I kind of locked myself in my room for the time being?”

 

“Hmmm…”  His fingers didn’t stop bouncing, “So that’s why we don’t have the same Physics class this year? Homeschooling, perhaps?”

 

Shit, he’s more intelligent than he looks.

 

Sighing, I rested my head on my arms, knees propping them up. “Nailed the head right on. Well, it’s more-so virtual school.”

 

“Ehh… I’d like to be in virtual school. Junior year fucking tore me apart, and the final exams made me want to jump out of the third floor’s window, by the drama room.”

 

“That’s… kind of specific.”

 

“Because I’ve done it before, and I always eat my lunch over there.” The cigarette’s fire died out, my hands gripping the cuffs of my sweater from the sudden shock. _He tried… to kill himself? Or was it an accident_? “Yeah, yeah, school’s important and everything, but isn’t it bad enough when majority of the kids want to kill themselves? I’m suffering enough as it is, and I guess the both of us have our own problems.” Shiro’s index tapped my forehead, and I noticed he mimicked the position I was in, a soft smile on his face. “Enough about me, what about you? Forced yourself into isolation from being sexually abused, right?”

 

The words enough made goosebumps fly up my arms, and all the hairs on my back stand up as if they were static. Nodding my head, Shiro stood up a few seconds later, cracking his back a few times. “Let’s get out of this shit hole, I wanna go get some McDonald’s.” Even though I squinted at him after his words, his hand was extended out to me, a serious expression glued on his face. _Shit, he’s not joking around_. “Let’s go, Sanchez.”

 

His grasp was stiff, dragging me along with him to his bike. No fucking way.

 

“No fucking way, I’m not riding that shit. I’ll die.”

 

“How’s that any different from your thoughts?” He stated, buckling a helmet on, and rummaging for his keys.

 

“You really are a fucking John Green book, it’s so embarrassing.”

 

“Damn right. Let’s go egg somebody’s house, make iconic one-liners like Augustus, with a mixture of male tears and shit-eating grins thrown in. Don’t forget, we have to be white for this. Sadly, we aren’t, but we can try.” The extra helmet was tossed into my arms, as Shiro revved up the motorcycle. _I couldn’t believe this_. An awkward combination of a chuckle and sigh came out of me, as I positioned myself on the back of the seat, tensing up as the tires made us vibrate. “Hold on tight, pretty boy.”

 

“WAIT- “

 

The bike was flying off on the gravel, wind nearly deafening as we rushed past, my hands digging into his rock-hard chest. As much as I wanted to scream for dear life, I was drowning in adrenaline, the excitement bubbling in the core of my being. It was unlike anything I’ve ever done, and I’ve been on vehemently-hardcore rollercoasters before. Puffs of green-and-orange leafs were merely blurs, the clouds seeming to shift faster than they truly are. Only the sounds of the motorcycle, Shiro’s laughter, and my yells of enjoyment were able to be heard, everything about this moment clearing up the fog troubling my soul.

 

Maybe this was _good_ , maybe this was what it felt to be _normal_ again.

 

And not wallowing in my misery and suicidal thoughts… felt pretty _fucking good_ and _normal_ to me.

 

\--

 

“A-and remember when you blew up the classroom in middle school?”

“He- **oi**! That was _years_ ago!”

 

 

Shiro slammed the sticky McDonald’s table, his contagious giggles resonating throughout the cheap plastic top. I noticed his bionic arm instantly after, confused as to why he had it. What happened?

 

“Oh God, oh my God… fucking lovely.” The mechanical-fingers rubbed a fake tear away, the remains of smiling lines still on his cheeks. “This whole time together as lab partners, and you never knew to double check the chemicals to see if they were in the right order… this is why I had surgery, for Christ’s sake.”

 

There it is, he stepped on the landmine himself.

 

“Is that why you have a prosthetic?”

 

Shiro’s eyes opened up again, a nostalgic appearance developing in them. _Did I accidentally bring up a traumatic event? Shit, I hate when I do that. This is why I should stay alone, I always get involved in accidents like this_. “Nah, bud, my ex-landlord chopped off my arm because I found out he had tried to kill his boyfriend at the time. It’s all good, though, at least now I can make jokes about being a robot.” _How could he be this positive… despite being through such a terrible past_? Swallowing a bite of his Big Mac, he let out a strained sigh, alerting me to stay focused on what would be said. Sometimes he talks in hard-to-decipher riddles, and other times it’s so blatantly true that it’s hard to believe.

“Pretty much, my dad got remarried, and neglected me to survive on my own. Never really reached to physical abuse or anything, but he would only come for parent-teacher night or if I got in trouble, and put on the ‘Best Dad Ever’ performance. Last time we even ate a meal together was when I found out he and mom divorced after he cheated with, like, twenty women. I don’t think losing an arm would be as irreplaceable as a healthy childhood, y’know? Now I get by on my own by making money from stripping or dealing out fake marijuana to clueless middle schoolers. But I digress….”

 

Taking another massive bite of his burger (pretty much about one-third of the whole thing), he gave me a thumbs up, and downed the rest of his milkshake. “So, Astro-Lance, what has your panties in a twist lately?”

 

“Astro-Lance?”

 

“Hey, I’m trying to think of nicknames. All I remember is the fact that Astronomy and Physics are kinda’ your things.” It was the first time I witnessed Shiro even make a smile, dimples fully being displayed. _Fuck_ , he looks more like a teddy bear than an angsty teen.

 

 

It’s ridiculous, how this _kid_ , whose shoulder was wider than my entire face, and a scar decorating his nose, resembled a **teddy bear**. Even more cute than Pidge when they were a kid, and their mom would always portray their childhood album’s before Pidge came out.

 

“Well, Astro-Lance… I’ve just been suffering loads of panic attacks recently, and kinda’… okay, don’t tell my parents or siblings, alright? But I kind of… fuck it, I’ll just show you.”

 

Shiro inquisitively nodded in agreement, waiting for me to explain the situation. Hesitantly, I rolled up the sleeves of my sweater, cuts scattered across the fold of my arms all the way down to my wrists. His eyes widened from the sight, and traveled up to meet mine again, his fingers tracing over the almost-white ones.

 

“You shouldn’t have to take it out on yourself for the wrongdoings of other people, Lance.” The tenderness behind his usually-lighthearted and humorous tone stunned me, irises flicking back-and-forth while staring deep inside my own eyes. “Don’t let fleeting feelings leave permanent scars on your body, alright? Do you hear me? We’ll get you through this, buddy, you and I can move on over our demons.”

 

A pool of tears were falling out of my eyes before I could control it, all of my bottled-up emotions being laid out and shown to Shiro. “I… it just, it hurts so fucking much, most of the times it’s not that I want to die, I just want, I want a way out of feeling so fucking shit all the time!” The tears dropped onto my chicken nuggets, soaking into the shitty-but-delicious breading in them. “Fuck, now I ruined the mood and my nuggets. I hate this.”

 

The most gentle, breathy laugh came from Shiro, wiping away the water droplets forming by my eyes. “Don’t worry, we can buy you nuggets and build yourself back up into a temple. Just because you’re in ruins at the moment doesn’t mean you won’t be restored. Plus, I’ll eat the fucking watery nuggets.”

 

“N-no! They’re gross!”

 

“Fucking _watch_ me.”

 

Plopping the tear-nugget into his mouth, he winked, opening up my mouth and placing a dry one on my own tongue. The second after I started chewing, he practically _inhaled_ it down his esophagus, wearing a shit-eating grin immediately afterwards. “Oh, hey, you should check out my band playing tonight. We haven’t got a name yet, but it’s my buds Matt, Allura, Coran and I. We’re pretty cool – not just saying that because I need promotion – but it’ll be interesting. Way better than crying at a McDonald’s all day.”

 

Playfully slamming my fists onto the table, I grit my teeth, shocked that I forgot we had a fucking heart-to-heart in the middle of the most ghetto McDonald’s in town. “Damnit, you’re right once again.”

 

“I know, Astro-Lance.”

 

“Stop calling me that.”

 

\--

 

 

“Are we… even allowed inside of a bar? We’re underage- “

“Psht, we’re at McSorley’s, they serve fourteen-year-olds hard liquor. Plus, our band does pretty decent over here. C’mon, you can get the perfect view from the booth near the bathroom.”

 

Shiro personally sat me down at the empty booth, giving me the run-down of all the drinks and food available here: he could be a waiter here for all I know. A hard-rock song was playing, while Shiro met up with the rest of his band mates – hey, that’s Pidge’s older brother! Oh my GOD, it’s Matt fucking Holt. In the flesh. I thought it was just some urban legend, but he really does live in the city now, doesn’t he?!

 

Star-struck, I ogled at them absentmindedly, watching them set up the band’s equipment and testing the microphone. Allura was a beautiful woman, probably in her early-twenties, with curly silver hair, tied back in a bun. Effortlessly stunning, really, but what really made me uncomfortable was the guy – what was his name, Coral? – who practically was the spitting image of the Lorax. The four of them together, I never would have imagined it to work, but their personalities seemed to flow together in tranquility, making up for something the other lacked. Although Coran still did make me a bit uncomfortable: _who grooms their mustache in the middle of a bar_?

 

The stage lights were moving crazily, an unknown beat coming out from Coran’s keyboard. Woah, he’s surprisingly a master at playing that, I don’t even like the keyboard that much.

 

 _“I feel for you but when did you believe you were alone?_  
You say that spiders crawled inside and made themselves a home,  
where light once was…”

 

This is one of the songs on Pidge’s iTunes, I recall it faintly. What was it called…

 

“ _I know you want to leave but_  
_Friend, please don't take your life away from me_.”

 

There it is. It’s a _Twenty One Pilots’_ song, for Christ’s sake. Shiro’s eyes searched throughout the crowd of hipsters coming over, and once they landed on me, he gave a huge, dazzling smile, performing tricks with his drumsticks in-between the pauses. _Damnit, Shiro. You’re too cool, I’m going to swoon. If it wasn’t for playing such an emo song, I would idolize you_.

 

In a trance from Allura’s gorgeously-smooth vocals, I didn’t notice when the song faded out to a fucking pop punk one, until her raspy screams got more people to cheer.

 

“ _There's nothing I hate more,  
Than pushing you away with my fucked up attitude_ ”

 

If there was a soundtrack to the movie of my life, the music they were performing would simply sum it up. Because, fucking hell, that lyric hit me harder than any self-help book ever could, and understood my reasons behind isolating myself. It may just be time to start speaking to Hunk and Pidge again…

 

**_\--_ **

 

 

“So… basically the whole part about your platonic crush on Shiro was pointless, but Nyma… did _that_ to you? I thought it was just some type of terrible breakup, dude.”

 

Finn’s hands slapped my back, making me snarl at him. “Oi, I just poured my heart out, the least you could do is not be a shithead.” My comment was responded to with a blank stare and a shrug of his shoulders, Mariana hip-bumping him to be my back-up. “Mariana, we constantly fight, but thank you for helping my case.”

 

“Mi hijo…”

 

Mama’s began to ugly-cry, suffocating me in another bone-crushing hug, my arms more limp than cooked spaghetti. Heh, _Mom’s spaghetti_. _Now’s not the time to be making heartless memes, Lance_. “I’m so sorry, mi hijo… te amo mucho, te amo mucho.” My shirt was being soaked with her sobs, and I patted her head, hoping to calm her down.

 

“It’s not your fault, mama, estoy bien. Yo te prometo… no te preocupes.” Bianca attached onto me from behind, snuggling up and comforting mama at the same time. Then came Mariana, Zoe, Elliot, and Finn. Keith was staring with wide eyes at the whole spectacle, before I beckoned him to join also. “No, no, Keith also gets to hug me. I am super huggable; everyone deserves to be hugged by me. Get over here, mullet.”

 

Protesting for a few seconds did nothing in the end, and Keith gave up the fight, squeezing in on the group hug.

 

“Does this mean Keith is familia now, hermano?” Zoe’s cute, muffled question made Keith flush bright red, and I could feel a bit of a blush coming onto my cheeks, also.

 

“Yeah, Zoe, Keith is familia now.”

 

“You just wanna get in his pants.”

 

“Finn! Mama is here! … At least tell him that when he’s alone.”

 

“Bianca, Finn! Ir a su habitación!”

 

“Hah, I’m not the one getting in trouble now!”

 

“Elliot, be quiet, you can’t even clean your own room well enough.”

 

“Mariana, you just held that bitch at knifepoint, you should be getting scolded the most.”

 

“I have no idea what Bianca is saying, I think that was super cool… sorry, Mrs. Sanchez.”

 

 

 

 

The living room once again was full of laughs and insults, Keith even managing to give Finn a wedgie for his comment from before. After telling everyone the truth, I felt such a huge burden dissolve from my shoulders, and the atmosphere around me had such a vibrant feeling to it. It was happy, relieved, refreshing…

 

But as soon as one leaves, another one came, and my mind was plagued with questions as I recalled what Nyma threatened Keith with:

 

Who was _Sendak_ , and who exactly were the _Sphinx_?

 

 

 

\--

 

The train ride back home was fairly silent, Keith dozing off on my shoulders, hands interlocked once more. It was just me, my thoughts, and the faint exhales from Keith’s nostrils. Sendak, the _Sphinx_ , mama crying, Nyma, my anxiety…

 

With every passing, blooming oak tree, I was jumbling up new ideas, feeling like my brain would ignite any minute now, but continued to form new theories and unanswered conclusions to my thoughts. It didn’t help that his hand was making me more nervous than at ease – _where has that hand been? Who else touched it? Was Sendak someone who understood Keith? Did Sendak and Keith date? Did Sendak give Keith the scar? How did Nyma know Keith and Sendak had some kind of history together? Did Keith know who was in the Sphinx? How did he know the assumed-gang? Was he part of it? Was he attacked by it? Did he attack someone from the Sphinx_?

 

 _Was Keith_ lying _to me_?

 

The train stopped at rail 16 of Penn Station, the well-accustomed-to smell of musky sweat and coffee wafting around after the doors slid open. Waking Keith up, he groggily blinked, and drowsily walked out with me, our hands dropping out of contact. I couldn’t help but stare at him, whether I knew it or not, but the curiosity was never-ending. All I know about him, was that he was a Physics Prodigy, had a ‘traumatic past,’ was out of the closet, and he was startled by the name of Sendak. And the Sphinx.

 

Do I really know him? Has he really been putting up a false front, like Nyma told me?

 

Even though Nyma was a liar, and ultimately hurt me in the end, she… she made _sense_. It fit Keith so well, to hide the truth and live a fake life. _Just like me_.

 

“Okay, Lance.”

Keith suddenly stopped, dozens of frenzied business-men and women passing us, the train doors shutting. The both of us were sharing intense eye contact, his arms crossing seconds later, the silence stiffening the vibe around us. “Why are you quiet, but won’t take your eyes off of me? Did I do something to you?”  

 

My mouth stopped quivering, and my filter was non-existent, all of my worries being announced out loud. “Are you lying to me?”

 

His eyes grew, and then squinted, as if he was taken aback by what I stated. “What do you mean? We just had a bonding moment last night- “

 

“Was what you said _true_ , Keith?!”

 

The intense mood was diving into dangerous territory, his hands clenching shut into a fist, dropping his stance. “What do you mean – why would I lie about that?!”

 

“I’m **_asking_** ; did you really tell me everything? Was that all that happened to you, to make you this _jaded_? I have a feeling that you’re hiding something from me, and I am a book you fought to open wide, and succeeded in doing so. Tell me the honest truth, Keith, I… I want to believe you. I want to believe _in_ you.”

 

 

More people bolted past us, and families with suitcases were leisurely going back-and-forth, sight-seeing around in the train station. The wind from the train moving out was making Keith’s mullet fly around softly, our shirts being lifted up ever so gently. If this was the right time, and the right context followed behind it, it would easily be a romantic scene. But, that wasn’t what this was becoming. That wasn’t us. I was just a fuck-buddy to Keith, someone he lusted after. We weren’t a John Green novel – we wouldn’t egg people’s houses, we wouldn’t make iconic one-liners and cry with each other honestly. We weren’t honest with one another.

 

Our reality was just to be nothing more than a simple fuck here and there, entirely pissed at each other one moment, and making out in another. He was a pile of questions; I was a mess full of doubt.

 

Keith was an endless fire, and I was a cracking glacier. One step further, and I’ll be gone forever, a changing person.

 

“ ** _I killed Sendak’s brother_**.”

 

The train was gone from my sight, nobody else was filling the once-busy station. I was forced to deal with the heart-wrenching, brain-fucking words Keith uttered, and I wanted to run away. Run away from my problems, pretend that this wasn’t real. That we could remain the light that would never grow into a full-flame, but never be extinguished.

 

But, this was very, very much real. Keith’s presence was real; his words were real. Everything in this room was real.

 

Keith killed someone, and hid it from me.

Keith lied about it.

Keith lied to _me_.

 

 

My flight-or-fight feeling took control of my actions, wiping away the tears burning my eyes. Keith’s crazed look made me panic, made me wonder… _what else would he be lying about?_ _Was he telling the truth about how he felt about us, how he felt about himself_?

 

My feet moved in the opposite direction, leaving my bags behind, and darted to the stairs. “Lance, hey – wait! Where are you going?!” Keith’s voice was catching up every word, and I turned my head around, crying to my heart’s content. _I chose flight_.

 

“Keith Kogane, you… you, _leave me alone_!”

 

Running up the stairs, I heard no footsteps chasing after me, no heavy pants or meaningless words sent to make me feel better. _I chose flight: I didn’t have the heart to fight him. It’s your fault, you run away from your problems without facing them head on_.

 

 _You rather hurt others than yourself in the end, and that makes you equally just as guilty, Lance Sanchez. You’re nothing more than a compulsive liar_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update: im dead. this is worse than the grand cheetos incident of 2012. 
> 
> my emo, emo tears


	9. NINE: Transatlanticism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i love me some death cab for cutie, angst, and chapters that change plot like every 2 lines!!!!! (only one of those is a lie. guess which one! so difficult.) i just kept writing this without a goal bc its more of a fill-in chapter (in my opinion, didn't really like writing this one) BUT:  
> ***TRIGGER WARNINGS: anxiety/panic attacks, suicidal tendencies (brought up), blood, murder, distortion of reality, drug use (Xanax, for anxiety reasons tho) 
> 
>  
> 
> In which the severity of Lance's anxiety is touched upon (in the future it's wayyyyyy important) ((also, once again, how i experience my anxiety/panic attacks)), Keith can be cute AND meme, Matt made an appearance even though it's _ _ _ _, Sendak's an ass who needs to leave thanks, #klance's sex life is now everyone's life, and hunk is an amazing cook okay he could win master chef without even trying okay
> 
> also im #ded too lmao school's kicking my ass. i need friends, and a life. but here i am, writing gay fanfic, so.... ¯\\_ᵔ ͜ʖᵔ_/¯

_I couldn’t even look at myself_.

 

Hunk was baking at two in the morning, stress-creating new recipes, and playing the _Life is Strange_ soundtrack in the process. While rubbing my eyes, I slumped out of my bedroom, blue-cat slippers skidding on the wooden floor. Zelda was chasing her toy around, the other two cats snuggling up and dozing off on the couch. Nights like this remind me of how calm and soothing life can be around Hunk: he was my personal anti-depressant, and I appreciated him more than anything. Sometimes it’s better to be in the company of someone you trust and care for rather than someone you have feelings for.

 

Yawning, I reached behind him, grabbing a mug to make some coffee. “Stress baking again? It’s a new accomplishment, though, it’s only two in the morning.”

 

“Ah, Lance, sorry if I woke you up. I’m just… worried about Physics, and my family. Little Kalena had to go back to the hospital again, she has pneumonia. I want to kick my stepfather’s ass for smoking in the house despite knowing she has respiratory problems. And my job isn’t making enough to cover both her medical bills and our apartment… I’m just…”

 

“Hunk, it’s alright.” Wrapping myself around him from behind, I swayed us back and forth, to the tranquil hum of “Mount Washington” playing from his iTunes. “Listen, Kalena will be alright, your mom is so strong and badass that she’d kick Muhammad out for smoking. Hell, she’d banish him from the country – no, the continent, just to protect you. That’s where you get your personality from, my dude.” Swiping the wooden spoon out from his grasp, I tested the flavor, puckering my lips from the taste. “Is this some concoction of blue sourpatch kids and caramel? …. Well, it’s actually not that bad the more I try…”

 

His laughter was brightening the room up, and I felt pleased with myself for making him feel better. “Yeah, kinda’ just threw in whatever was nearby. Anyways…” Hunk stole the spoon back, pretending it was a sword, “How’s it going with Keith, and mama was good? You never told me before, just went straight to bed. I came home from work excited and BAM… you were like a **_corpse_** on your bed.”

 

Corpse.

 

Swallowing, I acted like everything was alright, fighting back with a plastic soup spoon. “Nothing really happened… well, despite kinda’ getting jiggy, beating each other up, Nyma bursting in, telling them all the truth, and literally being the most dramatic guy on the planet at the train station.”

 

The batter-covered spoon fell, Hunk’s face all scrunched up. “The hell?! Lance, what… what the fuck, I’m going to have a heart attack… Nyma was there? You fought Keith – wait, what happened at the train station? You told them everything?”

 

Awkwardly, I propped myself onto the countertop, swinging my legs. “Um… yeah, Nyma was threatened by Keith and Mariana, then Mama cried for like twenty years after the discussion, and Keith kind of... lied to me, so I blew up like a volcano and burned everything good that was happening. Same old, same old. Wait, Hunk, we were talking about your stress-baking.”

 

“Not anymore.” Hunk flicked my forehead, the ‘disappointed mom’ look on his face. Fuck, not again. It’s too early, and my coffee wasn’t even brewed yet. “What did Keith do? Do I have to have a sit down with him like a parent again? I swear, you two are idiots- “

 

“Slow down, bucko, what do you mean… _again_?” Hunk’s lips were pursed, whistling away from the scene. He didn’t manage to get too far. I got a hold of the back of his shirt’s collar, making him run in place. “What exactly did you do to Keith, huh?”

 

The guiltiest grin I’ve ever witnessed on him made my lungs practically liquefy, heaving from overthinking of numerous negative conversations they could have had. “Uh… basically, ehm… Keith’s in my Physics period, right? Everytime you would walk in and chat with Pidge and I, I noticed he would check you out… like, hardcore. Practically eye-fucking... anyways! I told him to come visit the shop and talk to you, so I guess… the first encounter of being the wingman for you two. Ah, after your birthday party, he told me that he was getting really interested in you, and also told me his address so we could study with each other. That’s really it, though. Sorry…?”

 

Staring at Hunk’s hand rubbing his neck, I gave up, sighing and jumping down from the counter. “That wasn’t too bad, thank you for telling me.” Even though I tried to wear my best sincere smile, I could feel it being faulty. “I’m going back to sleep, save some of those pastries or whatever you’ll make for me. Goodnight.”

 

I should be grateful, but all I could feel was… regret. I regretted being with Keith; or was it the fact that I was doubting my actions? The line was nonexistent and all of my emotions were jumbled together, contradicting and agreeing on multiple ideas flowing through my mind. My heart and brain were a different species made of the same feelings, correlating with one another when they usually were two separate entities.

 

Whether you care about him or not, you’re depressed and scared once again. You’ll break if you keep this up any longer.

 

I shut my lights off, and focused on the stars, ignoring any tears or despairing pants escaping from my throat. _He’s not good for you, Lance. He killed a man_. You always root for the anti-hero, though. _That’s in fictional stories, this is real life. You aren’t an all-knowing character; you are Lance Sanchez. Someone who doesn’t believe in anyone, someone who doesn’t have the slightest fate in themselves_. _When you see a criminal, your instinct is to be frightened. You are nothing but_ human _in the end_.

 

You don’t know me. _But I do, because I am you, and I am the part of you who is rational. Not the optimist and delusional Lance, I’m the realist, the truth to your lies_. _You’re not just terrified of Keith and Nyma, you are most afraid of your own self._

 

With a sense of crippling self-doubt, I rolled around in my blanket, shakily curling up and passing out. _I need an escape_.

 

\--

 

The cold, metallic touch of Shiro’s hand slowly woke me up, my eyes batting to see most of the squad in my bedroom. _What’s going on_?

 

Groggily, I sat up in my bed, Shiro softly smiling down at me. “Morning, sorry we had to wake you up, but there’s something you should hear.”

 

“What’s up?” My raspy voice resonated throughout the room, Pidge’s face scrunching up from the tone, and dissolved back into one of gloom. “Did something happen?” Nobody was responding, and Hunk broke the silence, beckoning me to follow him. After rubbing my eyes vigorously, I followed him to the living room, my bag of clothes by the door. _No way_ …

 

“Lance?”

 

Tensing up at the ever-familiar voice, I clenched my fists together, pacing out my breaths to remain rationality. However, all the effort I placed into keeping calm were lost the second Keith came into my vision, humongous bags and dark circles coloring the paleness of his cheeks. Part of me was curious, another enraged by his presence, and mostly… upset. The memories of the previous afternoon were soaring back to me, harrowing not only my conscious thoughts, but my heart; I was unsure which one ached more, and what exactly they ached _for_.

 

This was unfair, I knew it. An indescribable wave of guilt flooded over me, realizing how terrible Keith’s conditions must be to look like a _ghost_ not even twenty-four hours later. Keith was haunting me no matter what I did, and overwhelmingly so in this very moment, drooping, drowsy eyes boring into my own, his hands fidgeting slightly with every passing second. He lied to me, and I still, deep down, believed that he deserved the world, that Keith Kogane was an ethereal being. Despite being as damaged as he was, he was the chrysalism to his own thunderstorm, and I coveted seeking shelter in him.

 

It’s funny how emotions are such a painful and strenuous part of life, and they vanish the very _instant_ you have to face your own fears and responsibilities. All I had left was the cluster of ideas in my head.

 

My bare feet lifted up from the wooden floor, impulsively acting on their own. _You know what they’re doing, and you don’t want to come to terms with it_. You’re right, I **don’t** want to do anything, I’m the type who puts others’ problems before my own. I **don’t** try for myself. And here I am, subconsciously giving my best to help **Keith** , who hurts me in every which way, and bandages me up right after the inflictions. It’s _out of character_ , it’s _out of my comfort zone_ , and yet… it’s _right_. It’s the key part for the puzzle of Keith and I.

 

Tears flowed out of my eyes, as I attacked Keith in a hug, both of us stumbling from the sudden impact. His fists gripped at my baggy shirt, repressing sniffles in my neck once we caught our balance, my heart cyclically breaking and repairing. The habitual sensation of _La Douleur Exquise_ pummeled into me, a train full of woe and yearn crashing into rationality. Insufferable wheezes were slipping out from my throat, feeling like a blob of pain and nothing more.

 

“I-I-I’m sorry,” I let myself break free from the embrace, tears slathered across my cheeks. Keith didn’t seem to be in good spirits either, even through my blurred vision.

 

“No, it’s… it’s my fault, I didn’t tell you, and I… hell, I dropped the bomb hastily.” Clearing the forming-droplets from my eyes, I noticed his fingers fumbling around anxiously, and nodded for him to continue. “Um… honestly, it wasn’t, uh, direct? Like… you know, the _thing_.” Keith’s voice progressively lowered in volume, and he was whispering now, a gloomy glaze over his usually-twinkling eyes. “Sendak’s brother… Zarkon, he… Zarkon was my last _ex_.”

 

Contrition nearly slammed me off my feet, stunned by the situation. “The scar? That’s from Zarkon, and about a few days after my eighteenth birthday, he came back, assaulting me on my way back from work, and it turned into him suffocating me when I fought back. This was the night I met Shay, who was in the city for vacation, and she… she helped me out of his grip, but I was long gone. I, I took him by the shoulders, and slammed his head into the concrete.” His back noticeably tensed up, gritting his teeth on every pause. “He bled like crazy, and managed to chase Shay and I across the block, but a drunk taxi driver flew past, hitting him in the spine… we were only a few feet away from the scene. Even though he… tortured me before, I couldn’t stand the sight of so much blood, half of it from my own actions. I held him in my lap, and he asked me to – to call the ambulance. And I didn’t do it… I knew he wouldn’t make it, no matter what, and I was haunted by the extreme disparity behind his voice as he bled to death. Part of me wished to help, but mostly, in an odd sense, I felt relieved.”

 

Keith scoffed, swiping the water off from his eyes. “As terrible as that sounds. I know I’m horrible for doing that, and it wasn’t… completely my fault, but it still was.” My hold on him got even tighter, squeezing the air out of him. I brushed off the soaking-wet patches on my shirt, placing all my efforts into the hug.

 

I’m selfish, I let him become a mess because I didn’t take the time to understand. _Does it make you a ‘_ selfish’ _person to be stunned? It’s natural, you’re nothing but human. Imagine the number of times you’ve scared others off, whether on purpose or not_.

 

Pidge’s clapping startled him out of my grasp, tugging down on the edges of his hoodie. “Alright, you bunch of gays, I think it’s time we have a sitdown.” They took out a pocketknife from their jean pockets, and directed it towards Keith, being about ten steps away. “What did you do to my son and why did he talk about death in his sleep?”

 

“I – _what_?” My voice cracked at the end, mostly because Pidge was around when I was sleeping, and my nervous habit was discovered. When I’m under extreme amounts of stress, I manage to _worsen_ my sleeping schedule, waking up with a fervent sense of anxiety, or uttering the depressing nonsense that flowed around in my consciousness throughout the day.

 

Keith’s eyes were strolling back-and-forth between Pidge and I, varying emotions displayed on his face. Shit, I’m going to have to explain myself. “Uh, you see… gotta blast!” In an attempt to run away from the inevitable, I was gracefully lifted up by Shiro, as if I had no weight to my bones, and positioned onto the couch. “Damnit.”

\--

 

“What did they mean back there, Lance?”

 

I locked Keith and I in my room, my nerves seething out of my control. If I had to come out clean to Keith about my habits, he at least deserved to be told by _me_. Just like he confided in me about what happened with Zarkon, it shouldn’t have to be explained by others.

 

Tapping the floor with my bare feet, I dug my hands out of my sweatpants’ pockets, an uncomfortable smile settling in on my lips. “These… these are what started my habits when it comes to stress,” turning my wrists over, I clearly pointed out the different shades of white and brown slashes, a band of them surrounding the veins. My head was ducked, as I could feel another surge of emotions on their way to rain down. “Started out with just burning my back in the shower, and it got even worse… when I slept, I would wake up around every hour, panting like I ran across the Saharan desert without water. When I’m truly having a rough time, I talk in my sleep, whether it be mumbles or full-on conversations, and I never remember it when I wake up. I stopped harming around the time I met Shiro, and here I am today.” _Tremble_. “So don’t feel like it’s your fault, you didn’t cause my anxiety or depression, just made me feel a bit troubled. Not always in… in a bad way, though.”

 

Icy hands trickled down my arms, thumbs delicately gliding their ways around the scars. The sensation made butterflies and guilt simultaneously swarm in my stomach, and I was torn between regretting looking up, or upset that I missed the intensity in Keith’s expression. His eyes were morose, teeth grazing his bottom lip so much that new crevices formed each second. With the tender movements on my skin, I shivered with indescribable feelings, goosebumps forming once he landed on the last one, nearest to the radial vein’s branches. Keith continued trailing his fingers down until he reached my own, and interlocked our hands, the callouses and writer bumps disseminated across both of his palms crushing the life out of me.

 

“Your body is stardust, and you shine brighter than all the constellations in space.” Keith’s quivering lips pressed down on the sensitive skin on my hand’s front side, dispersing heat throughout my body with the simple, sincere contact. “Don’t hurt yourself for dimming out, your demons aren’t worth that torture. Pain comes and goes, unlike the past, and you can control what you do with that pain. Do you hear me? You’re too good for what’s happened in your life.”

 

Water dribbled out of my eyes, and I nodded, gulping away the doubtful words lingering in my throat. He’s trying for you, don’t let him worry. “I-I don’t want you to worry, man, I’m fine!” Dodging the comments, I let out a bit of a snort, grinning with no meaning behind it. “Just because I’ve had problems doesn’t mean that others should have to panic about what I might do next, it’s okay. Don’t distress yourself because I had a bad day- “

 

“I’m worried because I fucking _care_ , and it’s not an option for you to switch off.”

 

The tip of his nose was barging into my own, resting his forehead on mine. What was once a wild fire burning in his eyes, was nothing short of gloomy anguish, my own face swirling around and mingling with the indigo specks in his irises. Keith’s fingers curled around my neck, chapped lips tickling the tiny opening of my mouth. _Such a tender touch_ … millions of darts jabbed into my frame, affectionate visions deluging my brain. Both of the corners curled up, and Keith set the plump pair of lips firmly on me, the kiss genial and captivating. Once again, I was placed under Keith Kogane’s spell, and enchanted by everything he does.

 

He’s not perfect, he’s not the Prodigy everyone believes he is. He is Keith, and I think I…

 

“I love you, Keith.”

His eyelashes tickled my cheeks as his eyes flung open, mouth only a millimeter away from mine. The fact that I blurted out my feelings didn’t settle in, until an extensive blush appeared on Keith’s complexion. Adrenaline blazed throughout my blood, and I couldn’t stop the desire to just finish it – go big with the confession, since I already dropped the whole explosive on him.

 “Yeah… I really have the hugest crush on you, even if you can be an asshole of epic proportions – same here, though, I shouldn’t really talk – anyways. I think you have the prettiest eyes and eyebrows and skin and hair, even though that mullet is a horrendous sin, and your personality is great despite your tendency to be a bit aloof. Or dense. Extremely dense. And rude, or you don’t have tact when it comes to things like this, but I still believe you’re some Korean God that the ancient Greeks biasedly didn’t write about. The fact that you’re so in touch with your interests is hot, too, and cute. Like when we were binging _How to Get Away with Murder_ and _Stranger Things_ together, and you wouldn’t stop screeching during the dramatic scenes or babbling about how sexy Connor was, or how you asked me to teach you how to grind and I was like, ‘damn boy you’re giving me a heart attack I’m gonna need a hospital any second’ but I acted cocky anyways and promised I’d show you how. And you turn me on so much, and make me feel like I’m on cloud nine, and sometimes I get more angsty than Zuko pre-redemption arc because of how you drive my mind insane. Sorry that I’m completely in love with you and shit, but fuck, yesterday I didn’t know what to do after Nyma, and I thought you were so hot when you were standing up to her and everything and damn it Keith- “

 

His hands flocked up to the edges of his hair, a cheesy-yet-offended expression on his face.  “You think my mullet is a sin?”

 

“Was that all you fucking got out of that?! I’m pouring my _heart_ out to you!”

 

Cackling, Keith gently cornered me in on the wall, blessing me with a grin as wide as the universe. “Of course, I mean, I kind of already figured out you liked me from the previous rage-inducing incident.” My breath hitched at that comment, squinting my eyes emphatically to wordlessly question his actions. “ **Idiot** … Besarte es como ver las estrellas. Eres la persona mas maravillosa del mundo…. Me haces feliz. T- _te amo con toda mi Alma_ …”

 

My pulse skyrocketed, astonished by the fact that: Keith is _speaking_ to me in Spanish, and he’s _confessing_ to me in Spanish. Smiling like a mad man, I pecked his cheeks, giggling from the terrible accent he has in my native tongue. “사랑해 (I love you).” I repeated the words until I had to breathe, Keith all giddy next to me. Our laughs combined together, sounding harmonious and tacky all at the same time. It was unbelievable. “난 당신을 키스하고 싶어요 (I want to kiss you).”

 

“H-how do you still remember how to say that?!”

 

Keith’s blush was making me wheeze all over again, doubling over from speaking and cackling too hard at ourselves. “I have quite the memory. Like the time you called me **_papi_**.” Closing in the infinitesimal height difference between us, my focus immediately flicked to his mouth, biting my bottom lip to restrain myself to the best of my abilities. “So, is that a yes, mullet?”

 

“Thanks for ruining the moment, you massive loser.” Despite his eye rolling, Keith dragged me down to his height by gripping my collar, and landing a kiss that lasted about a second before placing me in a headlock. “Take that, you fucker.”

 

“T-T-Tap out, _Tap out_!”

 

\--

 

As soon as I opened the door, everyone fell back, shit-eating smirks on all their faces. Pidge cracked first, snickering while pointing at the bite on my neck, and Hunk followed almost instantly. Crossing my arms, I shoved my sweaty foot in Pidge’s face, their laugh halting and switching into one of repelled sounds.

 

“That’s what you get for eavesdropping on a serious conversation!”

 

“What, about you and your **_BOYFRIEND_** giving you a wet-willy?”

 

Hunk was praying to Buddha for some peace and quiet, but his words were muffled out by his uncontrollable, breathy-chuckles. Shiro and Allura were sharing an all-knowing look, the fujoshi side of Allura transpiring. Keith – oh, _gracious, beautiful, problematic_ Keith – walked out at the wrong time, completely clueless about why I was having a mini-rage and panic attack. Now that Shiro understands Spanish, I am _done for_.

 

“Get out of the way, before I make all of you smell my feet.”

 

“Please don’t make us suffer that harsh of a punishment for listening in on that… that **spectacle**.” Hunk wheezed again on the last few words, playfully punching the floor to help subdue the struggle. Keith didn’t even go red, but practically looked like someone who just shat themselves.

 

Pidge chimed in with numerous jokes, everyone ending up throwing in their two-cents on what the ‘lovebirds’ were discussing. Until Hunk’s mom called about Kalena’s condition, the room was full of jeers at Keith and I, my sanity lessening with each sentence.

 

Once it hit one o’clock, everyone was gone, and Keith was in the process of bidding his farewells, another disturbing thought coming into my mind: _what would happen if Keith killed another person_? The strangely-ecstatic atmosphere felt so fake to me, even if we went all over the place in our conversations today. _If it was someone else, wouldn’t you run away from them_? Maybe I would… but it’s – it’s Keith, who trusted me with his secrets. _Secrets, secrets, secrets… there is always a reason why people hide truths: what would happen if he kept it from you forever_?

 

Guilt. I felt utterly, disgustingly guilty, kissing Keith goodbye, a false front behind my inner voices. Was I scared of him, comforted by him, or just in love with the idea of him? With each day, the mysterious aspect to Keith Kogane was dissolving, information that made me happy and upset being learned… What his favorite shows are, _the way he fights_ , how intelligent he is, _why he killed a man_.

 

Fuck, what am I supposed to do?

 

Sulking down on the closed door, I curled up into a sitting-ball, trying to stabilize my breathing. As soon as Keith was across the hall, my anxiety exploded, as if it was a firework. It’s terrifying, intriguing, enthralling… having an interest in someone like that; but my conscious wouldn’t accept it. Loving someone who’s been through hell and back, who took part in someone’s death.

 

_“I came home from work excited and BAM…  
you were like a **corpse** on your bed.”_

The idea that began as a simple-doubt, plagued all of wits, chaos ensuing inside my head. _Murder, he could kill someone you care about. He could kill you_. No, no, he wouldn’t do that… he’s not Nyma. Keith won’t betray me like that, I can grow to trust him. _You admitted so yourself, you don’t believe in him. The tendency to jump to the most negative of answers is engraved inside of you, as if it was as natural as the code of your own DNA. Lance is afraid, reluctant to swallow the reality of his situation. If you don’t grow to embrace what’s true and real, the denouement of your own nefarious story will never arrive_.

 

“Get **_out_**!”

Hunk’s feet hurriedly pitter-pattering on the wood faded out to nothing in a matter of seconds, a wicked grin growing on my face without me knowing. “What’s the fucking point? _You’re just as much of a liar as he is_. _Don’t lie_ – no, that’s not true. I would never hide something that big… would I? No, no I wouldn’t… I think. Oh God, what am I doing?! You’re not real. _I’m real, but are you? Aren’t you the fake Lance_?”

 

A worried-Hunk tore my arms out from covering my face, his glare having no effect on my emotions. _What’s he doing here_? “Lance… Lance, what the hell – what is going on? What do you mean by that?”

 

An odious, ominous guffaw was coming from my side, not even realizing what I was doing. “ _I’m going out on a limb here, but I guess you don’t know what happened? Keith and I fought, I found out something I wasn’t supposed to, and now I’m having a jolly time dreading every second my mind bounces back to the actuality of it. Isn’t that humorous? I’m shaking in my boots because of how ironic it is. Two deceivers together, I’m not even sure if he told me the truth about his feeling_ … am I being honest with myself about my own? Of course I am. It’s all great, though, Hunk! Doing great. I’m fine, okie dokie. A-okay coolio beans!”

 

His Adam’s apple gently twitched, puzzlement and concern muddling together on his face. “Lance… are you having an episode?” Of course I am, but why make him panic? _Why let anyone panic about me_?

 

“I’m fin- **Keith kil** \- I’m just tired!” Slapping my hands on my thighs, I stumbled up onto my feet, placing the stinging-palms on my hips. “Just stressed – **killed** – so no need to get all worried, I’m as calm as a – **corpse** – don’t you have to go to work at three? Don’t stay – **Keith** – Hunk.” The sudden clutch on my wrists frightened me, immediately going back to the fact that Zarkon died in Keith’s arms. Keith’s hands had his blood all over them. “G-g- _get your hands off of me_!”

 

Violently, I shoved Hunk off of me, stepping backwards into the couch. Flashes of Keith, Nyma, and Hunk were all jumbled together, and I could barely make out the rate of my pulse, before my mind going into its purest state of insanity. Shit, he’s here. _Blood_. The footsteps they made were progressively becoming more prominent, and I dove straight into delirium, terrified and paranoid of my surroundings. All the other colors seemed to fade out into dullness, except for _red_. The _cherry_ color of Hunk’s headband. Visions of a viscous-red splattering everywhere, and disappearing the next second.

 

“Leave me alone!”

 

“ ** _LANCE_**!”

The rock-solid head that only _one person could ever possess_ was rammed into mine, a bruise obviously forming. “It’s me, Hunk! You’re alright, you’re having a panic attack, just soak in your surroundings!” Zelda was purring against my legs, the grandfather clock dreadfully ticking, sweat pouring down _Hunk’s_ face.

 

Oh God, I haven’t had a breakdown like that since…

 

“ _Hunk_? Is it really _you_?”

 

“It’s really _me_ , buddy. You’ll be alright, let’s get you some Xanax, yeah?”

 

\--

 

Even though I’ve been taking Xanax daily again, I couldn’t settle down my vicious theories or paranoia. Growingly, I became more suspicious of everyone around me, scrutinizing every living embodiment that I come in contact with. The habit was foreboding, yes, but my anxiety couldn’t even stop my over-analytical and anomalous behavior.

 

“ _He pretends that he's OK, but you should see….  
__him in bed late at night,_  
he's petrified.”

 

Pidge’s choice for the music today at Black Gold was not helping my situation, _Twenty One Pilots_ seeping inside of my frame and taking control of my heart. **_Nothing kills a man faster than his own head_** … Pidge must have caught on to my questionable fidgeting, beckoning Hunk into the room, Shiro snapping to his senses from the corner of the room, reading the music notes for a new song _Ukiyo_ will play tonight.

 

Downing my fourth _cappuccino_ today, I dipped in my seat, stretching my legs into the now-vacant chair that Pidge was occupying only a few moments ago. Drown it out, drown it out. You’re just overthinking. You had another nightmare last night, so you’re on edge, but it’s okay…. _Is it really, though_? Not today, I’m not battling you again today.

 

Focus on the Physics textbook in front of you, not the terribly-relatable lyrics, or the fact that you’re on the brink of a caffeine overdose, or the fact that your anxiety is _literally boiling over the lidded-pan you had it in_.

 

“Yo, Astro-Lance.”

 

“Yes?”

 

Fuck. In that moment, I knew that I immensely fucked up.

 

Shiro kneed my feet off the plastic chair, plopping himself down into it. “Haven’t – and _refused_ to – responded to that name since you drenched a nugget in your tears. What’s going on? Hunk… just told me that you had a sudden attack a few days ago, and I kind of figured out that something was off. Don’t bottle it up, you know how that ended last time, and we are _not_ going to another hospital and fabricating a transparent lie about me being your dad. We’ll work this out, so trust me. We all want to help. Me, Hunk, Pidge, Allura, **Keith**.” I must have audibly gulped at the name, since Shiro’s eyes squinted in an instant, tapping the table with his bionic-index finger: his pensive habit. “You’re taking your meds again, you acted strange after coming back from Mama’s house, Keith had to stop by after with your bags, you brought up something about Zarkon…”

 

With a gasp, epiphany was written all over Shiro’s face, covering his mouth with his balled-up fist. “Shit… it all makes sense. Keith, Keith is the one who killed my ex-landlord’s brother. It’s completely connecting together. Holy shit, how did I not realize that sooner…”

 

How could he have such a calm demeanor like that? He accepted the conclusions like it was _natural_ , like it made _sense_. As if he seemed to _understand_ Keith better than I did.

 

“Claws” by _Son Lux_ was transitioning into the room, deepening the tension between Shiro and I.

 

“It… it makes sense to you?!”

 

“Obviously. He holds a knife at all times, he has a scar, Sendak has uttered his name a few times before I moved out, Keith had a petrified tone while talking about it… why wouldn’t it? I mean, Keith isn’t always the voice of reason, he stays quiet and observes from a far. He’s **paranoid**.” My eyes recoiled from their stare-down with Shiro, ogling at the cheap, plastic table like it was worth the entire economy. _Tap, tap, tap, tap_. “Don’t you know about Keith _Kogane_ , Lance?” _Tap, tap, tap_. “Lance… we all knew what you were getting yourself into… Keith’s an ex-gang member, he changed his last name to get free. It’s not Kogane... it’s Sung-Yoon.”

 

The tapping stopped, and so did all the faith I had in my mind. _Lie, lie, lie, lie. All he does is lie to me_. Shoving the chair far back, I stood up, anger and disappointment swirling inside me. _Sung-Yoon, of course, he would hide that from me. Like I should even pretend to believe his confession, just two weeks ago he said he wasn’t ready for a relationship. It’s too sudden, it’s too see-through. I just chose not to see it_. An obnoxiously-fake laugh erupted from the bellows of my esophagus, Hunk, Pidge, and Shiro all focusing in on me.

 

“Of course it is. Of course he would hide another significant thing from me. Thanks, Shiro, but I gotta go.”

 

His prosthetic arm reached out for me, but I stomped out of the room before he could come in my general vicinity, a wicked gritted-grin on my face. It’s gotten this far; I need to face the truth of my predicament. Sendak died at, and in, the hands of Keith Ko… Keith _Sung-Yoon_ , my fuck-buddy who ‘confessed’ to me two weeks ago, who broke my heart and stitched it back together cyclically. With each step forward, I felt fragments of my repaired-heart disintegrating, a permanent infection of hatred spreading across the entirety of me. I hate it, I hate this, I hate what’s happening. This is **Nyma** all over again. I find things out when it’s too late, and end up only harming myself in the process.

 

As if on cue, blonde locks filled my peripheral vision, before the slender fingers covered my eyes.

 

“Guess who?”

 

“Get out of my face, Nyma. Why are you even still here? You have a husband, stop coming around to fuck me up even more. It’s pointless, everything’s pointless, so can you just leave me the _fuck alone_?!”

 

The hauntingly-rambunctious giggle made my anger triple in size, until I realized the metallic smell coming from her fingers. Wait, that’s not just metallic… that is-

 

“Just ran into Keith, didn’t have a good conversation with him.”

 

 **Blood**.

 

Inexhaustible prescriptions of Xanax couldn’t help me recover from this, I knew immediately that I was going to black-out. My impulsive mind shut off, and I only realized a second before I lost control, that I’d have no recollection of what I was doing.

 

My fist collided into her nose, a sickly **CRACK** rippling throughout the currents in the air. Static was masking the intrusive thoughts flying in my mind, as I kept slamming bony punches into the already-blood-stained face, a hood covering the rest of her head. I couldn’t stop, until Nyma snaked her way through my consecutive throws, and slamming me down behind the communal trash can, a _scared_ twinkle in her eyes.

 

“Listen to me, Lance. Keith’s on his way, and… and I think I’m being hunted down, I don’t want to die. I, I don’t want it to end this way. You got to believe me, alright? With all the things I’ve done, I don’t want to die-! “

 

A knife was flung into her head, the horrified expression of panic paralyzed on her face. My mouth opened before I could take in the event, a sticky substance drying over on my forehead. When my gaze shook its way up, I was expecting a head of black hair, but I saw one of auburn hair, glasses coated with the crimson color that’s been tormenting me, awake and asleep.

 

“Let’s get out of here, Lance.”

 

“M-M-M… **_Matt_**?!”

 

\--

 

This is not happening. This is not reality. This is just some freak-out dream I’m having, nothing more, nothing less.

 

I’m not in the hospital room right now, I’m not holding a drugged-up Keith’s hand. I don’t have Nyma’s blood coated on me, I do not have Matt pacing back-and-forth in the same room. I do not know that my respect for Matt has shattered wholly.

 

The stiffness of the room was contrasting the war locked in my cerebrum, my logic being the only thing working inside of my body. Keith’s cracked-fingers quaked in my grasp, and I closed in on his face, a strained scrunch of his nose happening a few moments later. He’s awake. Nothing would be more ironic than him forgetting everything… while I recall, and suffer, through everything that has happened. I have split-memories of what happened with Nyma, and I keep replaying the _blade jabbed into her skull_.

 

Matt’s presence got closer, gracefully smiling down at Keith. “Good morning, how are you feeling? Do you need anything? I can go get you some breakfast.” Without his voice resonating throughout the room, I would not have connected the change of emotions on Keith’s face back to Matt. Matt Holt; who I idolized for _years_. A raspy, nearly-silent yelp startled me back into my senses, Matt’s eyes dropping down from the happily-closed state they were in. “No, no, no. Just because I’m here, doesn’t mean that’s a reason to worry. I just came to your rescue, after all. Once a _Sphinx_ , always a _Sphinx_.”

 

“Geeet… out of herrre…”

 

Numb at this point, I didn’t flinch when Matt brought up the Sphinx, no longer shocked by anything going on. This day will be remembered as one that was the most fucked up, even greater than the accident in tenth grade. Matt Holt is part of the _Sphinx_ , same with Nyma, Keith… who supposedly left, Zarkon… who is dead, Sendak, and another guy’s name that keeps being murmured. Not only the boy I had fallen for, but the man I had thought of as a role model for the perfect person… but with this experience, I taste the bitter truth; that nobody is perfect, nothing is. Flaws exist in every crook in every single thing. These two are no exception, and God knows I am not, either.

 

“We’re not forcing you to come back to the Sphinx, but would gladly accept your offer to rejoin. Your skills have become rusty – yes – but I didn’t just injure my own for the sake of you just reuniting with your boyfriend. No offense, Lance.”

 

“I don’t think this _could_ get worse at this point if that offended me, to be honest.” With a scoff, Matt’s commentary continued on, Keith clearly not at all contempt with him simply being here.

 

Shit, even with all this going on… I couldn’t get Keith out of my head. _Obviously, because this isn’t real. Lance, you’re still having a panic attack_.

 

Wait… what?

  * ●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●



“It’s me, Hunk! You’re alright, you’re having a panic attack, just soak in your surroundings!”

 

Confused, I looked down at my calves, Zelda indeed twisting her tail around them, bumping her head into me. _Holy shit, what’s going on? Am I losing my mind? Did I just picture all of that? Is this still a dream – is this all a dream? Am I just suffering from a figment of my own imagination, or is this real life, and I am just having another moment of derealization?_

“Lance… Lance, you’re scaring me… what’s wrong? What’s going on?”

 

I’m hurting; everything, and every piece of me, is aching. I don’t feel like I’m alright. I know I’m not alright.

 

“I… I think I’m going _crazy_. I don’t, I don’t want to be hospitalized, Hunk… but I’m scared. I don’t know if I’m more scared of myself, or Keith, or Nyma. This doesn’t even feel like real life.”

 

Hunk nodded furiously, tears swimming down his cheekbones. “Alright, Lance, I understand. Keep talking, I’m listening. Let’s work this out, instead of letting it ride out, okay?”

 

Sniffling repeatedly, I had the urge to come clean about everything, to confide in the friend who has been there through the highs, and the lows. From the climaxes, to the troughs, and all of what was in between. “Hunk, this just is killing me… I feel like I’m some kind of monster. Voices are constantly fighting with me, and I can’t decipher if what I’m feeling is what I’m making myself feel, or if it’s in its purest forms. This sucks…” Bawling along with Hunk, I dipped my head into his shoulder, wheezing from sobbing out my troubles. “I don’t, I don’t want to feel this way… I’m so torn, and I’m- I fucking love Keith so much, it hurts. He’s bad, and good for me at the same time, and I don’t know what to do anymore. If your crush killed someone, what would you do? Because… because I have no idea where to go from here…”

 

Hunk stifled up next to me at the last two sentences, but didn’t stop rubbing circles into my shoulders, taking the edge off of my worries. “It’s alright, Lance. It’s good to feel that way, pain makes you stronger in the end. Even though I hate seeing you in this shape, I know that you always keep it inside. The first step to recovery is talking about it, and I’m proud of you for speaking your mind! If you really… really love Keith, I think it’ll prevail in the end, even through the turbulent troubles and whatnot. Don’t eat yourself up for thinking like that, alright?”

 

“B-but… I don’t think that’s _natural_!”

 

“What, having voices in your head? It’s called a ‘conscious’ for a reason, it’ll bicker with you, roast you like no brutally-honest friend can, and also is a lifeline for rationality. You have anxiety, so of course it’ll be worse on specific days, so don’t even think that you’re **mental**. And I know you’re still cutting something out, so hit me. Nothing’s going to change how I feel.”

 

Should I? Would he… he wouldn’t _institutionalize_ me, right? _No, you’re not crazy, Lance. You’re paranoid, you have doubts, and depression. But that doesn’t make you crazy_.

 

With a weak, cracking sigh, I explained the whole story I played throughout my mind, never being disrupted once. The encumbrance I dragged with me for years was losing weight, creating new milestones in my life. _This is the first time I discussed my vivid panic attacks with someone else outside of Shiro_. And it… feels good, it feels safe. For once, I’m not fearing using someone to confide into, and there’s nothing that could make me forget this achievement. Sometimes, the first step to recovery really _IS_ talking about it.

 

\--

 

Until the next morning.

 

Hunk forced me to take a Xanax as soon as I woke up, and forced me to tag along with him to work today, making sure I ordered my normal beverage, and secured me in the back room, Pidge taking over the ‘job’ of being my babysitter.

 

Now I remember why I don’t bring up my feelings.

 

Pidge’s sham of acting clueless did not fool me. I’ve seen too many charlatans in my life to not realize that this was staged. “Well! If it isn’t the man himself, Keith Kogane, in the flesh. What a surprise! I am shook. What are you doing here, my man… my dude, my best bud, my brother-from-another-mother, my 80s gay? Take a seat, please! In fact, take this one, conveniently next to your love interest! Ha-ha-ha!” _That monotone-vocalizing wouldn’t even deceive the densest of people, Pidge_.

 

Mentally groaning, I placed my head on top of the nasty, aging Physics book, ignoring any trace of germophobic-profanities floating in my mind. “Mornin’.”

 

“Good morning.” The amiable tone of his voice made _me_ surprised, though. He’s in a pleasant mood, it’s painfully obvious.

 

Pidge’s phone was blasting “Careless Whisper” into the room, Hunk’s struggling-to-restrain laughter still clear through the closed door. Keith huffed, face turning brighter than the pinkest crayon that exists. Wasn’t expecting them to pull out the meme card this time, but I guess you’ll never be safe around Pidge Holt… ever.

 

“How you doing young lady?” Pidge snapped their fingers at the two of us, seductively cooing out the wrong lyrics, literally gliding out of the room while an anime-like glint was in their glasses.

 

Forget tension, I was jamming my head into the stupid table, Keith snickering like a whale not even five inches away from me. This is what it should be like, right? Not the bad aspects, but the positive ones… and there was a plethora of delightful moments between us.

 

“Does Pidge really want us to get it on to ‘Careless Whisper’ in the storage room of Hunk’s workplace? I mean, I’m kinda’ freaky but that’s a whole new level for me.”

 

“GOD, KEITH, _STOP_.”

 

 “Be my promiscuous boy, Lance Sanchez~”

 

“I’m going to run away to Belgium, change my name to Timothy Veranda, and live my life as a stock broker, just to get away from your cringe-inducing jokes.”

 

“Ahhh, but I’d miss your cute butt.”

 

Lifting my bruised-head from the table, I gave him my infamous death glare, feeling suspicious intentions shooting up my skin. “What is your obsession with my butt- oh my god, why are you typing in on Pidge’s phone, Keith stop, no, you’re making me worry, please put that down, I’m so done with you-“

 

“Burnin’ Up” was loudly being played from Pidge’s phone, my guts shrinking to the size of raisins from the astonishment of Keith, the local emo, knowing about the _Jonas Brothers’_ potential. _He’s the one_. Not only did he play the most iconic song of theirs, but he held the phone up over his head horizontally, singing along with the chorus, winking while embarrassing the living fuck out of me.

 

“Jesuchristo… this is killing me… I need to record this.”

 

And I did, capturing the frivolous, once-in-a-lifetime rarity of his attitude perfectly.

 

“Is this how you’re going to propose to him, Keith? Really? I told you that ‘Sneakernight’ would have been way better, that’s Lance’s shower song.”

 

“Pidge-! Okay, they’re not wrong… but still! You two conspired to do this?!” The devious look of understanding that the duo shared made me dramatically stand up from my chair, huffing numerous times to act like I was pissed, but I was really trying not to give in to their plans. “Plus, ‘Cinderella’ by the Cheetah Girls is my ultimate shower song, you clearly don’t know me. Get out of my life, you are a fake fan, I don’t have the time for these lies, Pidge. We’re over, I’m filing for a divorce.”

 

“Come on… babe, I thought this would happen after I would coolly admit that I knew you had an affair with Keith all along, and we’d have a fight, get it uploaded on Worldstarhiphop, and become internet icons, _then_ get divorced. Also you would lose an arm in the process, like Sasuke Uchiha, but…”

 

I couldn’t hold it in anymore, and I stumbled into the fridge behind me, cackling so I hard I felt a blood vessel pop in my eye, and everyone – including Hunk, who was _working_ – busted out in contagious laughter. Once somebody stopped, another would make them jump right back into hysterics, and it was an unstoppable cycle, until Allura criticized Hunk for lazing off on the job, wearing her typical _Urban Outfitters_ work-outfit, bun flying around in the air with every disapproving hand gesture. Must have been a rough night.

 

Shiro and Coran followed in shortly after, all huddling up into the room where Keith serenaded me only ten minutes earlier. Maybe Hunk was right, that it’s alright to accept _both_ the enjoyable and doleful days as part of life… _Keith’s more than just his backstory, just like I am. I decided not to worry myself about this any longer, so don’t even think about starting up again. We’re moving on, whether you like it or not_.

 

“Pidge, I don’t care, _My Chemical Romance_ will always sing ‘Cancer’ better than _Twenty One Pilots_. We’ll fight if you don’t agree to disagree.”

 

“Keith, that’s not fair. You’re the biggest emo out of the group, and that’s something coming from _me_.” Pidge spat back, their glasses being pushed back up in the same manner as before, a dubious chuckle greeting my ears with a harsh connotation behind them. “Maybe Lance’s type is emo, though.”

 

Allura spat her smoothie into Coran’s face, prolonging a threatening growl that was covered by Shiro egging Pidge on, humiliation settling inside of me... but I could not contain the cheesy, toothy beam from making an appearance. _You casted aside all the entertaining moments you have with your friends to zoom in on all your sorrows. Doesn’t this feel_ nice _?_ Healthy _? A change of pace is what the two of you need, you’ve been in anguish for a couple of months now. Let’s keep it this way_.

 

Keith, Pidge, and Hunk squabbling about emo bands and Physics, while Allura, Shiro, and Coran have a serious conversation about _Ukiyo’s_ performance later this week. I forgot how wonderful it is to know the people you care about are happy, and the thought flickered before disappearing into the void of my sanity: _were they this carefree while I was having such a rough time_?

 

A bumpy thumb pad was tracing stars into my thigh underneath the table, but I didn’t once shift my eyes from the genuine smile on Keith. The one that can make it into a John Green novel about white people falling in love – hell, what am I waiting for?

 

“You’re beautiful, _Estrella_.” I whispered, loud enough for only the two of us to hear. Once his thumb pressed deeply into my thigh, I knew that I’d keep the Spanish pet names, since he responded like _that_. “Mi Príncipe… cielito, sol, tesoro, corazón.” Testing out the waters, I felt that I had one more to bring up again, recalling the first intimate moment we had: “Papi.”

 

Keith’s shiver made a new-found confidence glow in my core, his hand gripping my thighs with a fervent tremble in it. _Got it_. _I may not be sure if he’s really, truly, honestly in love with me… I’m trying to convince myself so, but I do know that he’s undeniably enamored by me; or at least, the sex we have_.

 

Two points to bi-boy, yet again.

 

\--

 

“You did good today, Lance.”

 

Turning around, I was met with a proud-looking Hunk, placing his paycheck on the countertop. Bashfully, I bobbed my head in agreement: praise goes way too far when it comes to me. “T-thank you, I tried… although I am a bit exhausted.”

 

“No way, I was wondering how you were holding on with Keith finger-banging your thighs for two hours.”

 

Choking on the spit in my own mouth, Hunk snorted, leaving the scene of damage. “G-get back here, you shitty roommate!”

 

“Ufufufu~ Keith and Lance, sitting in a tree, f i n g e r… wait, that doesn’t work… a n g s t y – no, that too.”

 

“I-I get the point, leave me alone to suffer chagrin until I rot into a melted popsicle.”  

 

“Ask Keith out on a date before you die~”

 

“ _Hunk_!”

 

As flustered as I was becoming, I knew something was kind of off by the way my phone was blowing up. Shit, is this what I think it is… Hesitantly, I unlocked my phone, bombarded with spams in the group chat.

 

 

** KINKY SPACE NUNS **

 

 **Allurduh** : lmao keith is totally rubbing lance off right now

 **Allurduh** : just took a photo of it ohoho

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

 

 **#DAD:** I’m pretty sure we all see this public masturbating, but don’t take photos of it. That’s kind of gross

 

 **Allurduh** : come on Shiro what else will I have to roast Lance and Keith with

 

 **#DAD** : ………

 **#DAD:** point taken

 

 **Hunky Man** : LOLOLOLOL IM DYING THEY ARE CLUELESS

 **Hunky Man** : LIKE WE CANNTT FEEL THE VIBRATIONS FROM KEITH’S ELBOW ON THE TABLE

 **Hunky Man** : IDK IF IM DISGUSTED OR AMUSED

 **Hunky Man** : DISGUSED

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : KYAAHAHA I JUST SCREENSHOT THAT

 

 **#DAD** : this is terrible, but I will not stop reading it anyways

 

 **Allurduh** : lmao lets add keith

 **Allurduh** : everyone saved his contact right

 **Allurduh** : I mean when lance added him that was a rookie mistake. I did extensive research and yaoi reading for this moment

 

 **Pidgey CP 45:** obviously we all have him who do you think we are

 

 **Allurduh** : ᕕ( ͡◕ ͜ʖ ͡◕)ᕗ

 

_Allurduh added: yaoi material keith_

 

 **Hunky Man** : oh my god

 

 **#DAD** : ALLURA

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : WHY ISSS YOUR CONGATTCT NAME YAOI MATERIAL KEITH LMAO IM WHEEZIN GOODBYE

 **Pidgey CP 45** : 

 

**Allurduh:**

** **

 

 **Hunky Man:**  

 

 **Zuko Kogane** : wait what

 **Zuko Kogane** : why am I back here

 

 **#DAD** : hi Keith. Welcome to hell

 

Pidgey CP 45: keith are you dating lance

 **Pidgey CP 45** : make it clear & obvious the mman is an IDiootottTTT

 **Pidgey CP 45** : one way or another he’ll see this so juSTST REASSURE IT

 

 **Zuko Kogane:**  

 

 **Hunky Man** : holy shit

 **Hunky Man** : keith can meme

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : K E I T H      C A N       M E M E

 **Pidgey CP 45** : WHAT TOD O WITH THIS NEW FOUND KNOWLEDGE

 

 **Zuko Kogane** : but yea I kinda do

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : LETS INVITE HIM INTO OUR TUMBLR SQUAD

 **Pidgey CP 45:** EVERYONE IN WITH ME

 **Pidgey CP 45** : THE FRUITLESS FEEDS WILL NO LONGER EXIST

 **Pidgey CP 45** : YAOI KEITH WILL REIGN

 **Pidgey CP 45** : SO EXCITE SO FRESH SO CLEAN

 

 **Allurduh** : oh my god keith you’re in love with him and you admitted it via text

 **Allurduh** : lance is still in this group chat… you know

 

 **Hunky Man** : uh-ohhhhh

 **Hunky Man** : zoo-wee-mama this isn’t good

 

 **Zuko Kogane** : wait, what

 **Zuko Kogane** : FUCKING SHIT

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : wait

 **Pidgey CP 45** : UPDATE I HAVVE READ THE TEXT AND OML KEITH YOU BAFOON

 **Pidgey CP 45:** rest in reeses’ pieces you ded lmao

 

 **#DAD** : poor keith

 

 **Allurduh** : this is great news

 

 **Hunky Man** : when is the engagement

 

 **caBROn** : im feeling attacked right now I need you to stop and leave the 500-mile-radius of where I am currently standing #deleted #blocked #reported

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : so when’s the engagement

 

 **Allurduh** : when’s the engagement

 

 **#DAD** : am I the best man

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : make me best person

 

 **Hunky Man** : just don’t fingerbang like you did today we totally saw it and discussed it

 

 

 

On that note, I wished I could have a flip-phone to dramatically slam shut, but I didn’t; so I ended up locking my screen, praying for the aliens to baptize the hell out of my friends I selected. I remained in my holy stance until Hunk dashed out of his room, blanket following him, and leapt over the couch, turning the living room TV on.

 

“Dude, what the hell- “

 

“Lance, you need to see this.”

 

Hunk’s eyes were expressing more than his tone, and I knew something was up, so I joined him on the couch, attentively waiting for the news to show up.

 

‘ _Ah, this just in… Nyma Esposito, from the terrorizing-group Sphinx, was found dead today by McSorley’s bar in New York City, multiple wounds that appear to be from a blunt weapon on her head. We are currently tracking down the alleged suspect of the scene, who had been wearing an ivory-hoodie, and is around six-feet-one. If you believe you encountered someone here that looked like that, around six in the morning, please report so to our online site_.’

 

 

The both of us, bewildered, stared at the screen, not only shocked by who the victim was, but where the ‘murder’ took place: McSorley’s, where Shiro and Keith got banned from when I was drugged at the concert.

 

“You don’t think…”

 

“Hunk, I… I’m not sure, why would it be- “

 

“But… it could, right? I, I’m not being biased or anything, but… it’s freakishly similar to what you explained.”

 

Hunk was right: it was uncanny, the similarities between reality and my panic-fever dream. But my first idea was if it was Matt, rather than Keith, and then at the end of my suspicious-profiling, I came to another conclusion, as soon as another person, wearing the same hoodie described, along with a Kitsune mask, stole the camera away from the reporter.

 

‘ _Listen, you fucker. Keith, if you are out there, just_ know _that this won’t be the end. I’m after you for what you did to my brother._

 _Don’t you fucking forget that. You’re next, bodyguard._ ’

 

 _Brother, masked, Sphinx, Keith_ … it’s Sendak.

 

‘ _And I’m not just after you, I’m after your flamboyant cumdump of a boyfriend, too. He’s more fuckable than you think_.’

 

The realization of that voice was like hearing nails on a chalkboard.

 

“Lance… that’s, that’s… that’s…”

 

“It’s motherfucking _Buff_.” As if the nightmares, panic attacks, and crippling depression wasn’t enough to deal with all at once, now one of my attackers, who happened to be Zarkon’s brother, who Keith killed and dated, was after the both of us, and killed Nyma. Nyma, who also violated me, who was his ally.

 

Hunk’s phone, the house one, and my own simultaneously rang, but I was frozen on the screen, the slight flicker of a _Sphinx_ tattoo on their neck, and I paused the frame. _Remember it, use that to your advantage, and call it in_. _This time, there’s no reason to run – you have a chance for justice, both for you, and Keith. It’s time to seal the lesions you kept opening back up for years_.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> emo emo emo emo emo i hate this chapter 
> 
> will i ever stop with these damn references? no. will next chapter be more focused on a central plot? you darn tootin so (never saying that again) 
> 
> also im strangely feeling more and more like this book needs some more fluff but everytime i start writing fluff i get in the mood to ~FUCK THINGS UP~ tabitha style. maybe i should edit the tags again. alright done with this bc nobody even reads this anyways you all are here for the smut and pain dont lie to me <3 ¯\\_ᵔ ͜ʖᵔ_/¯


	10. TEN: Paradise Circus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this the whole week and im so uninspired so im just posting it now. shorter chapter, back to like ch2/4 length, but i could care less if its all over the place i just want the DRAMA and INSPIRATION to come. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: blood, sexual content (lmao nice), horrible writing  
> In which I'm a terrible author, Lance and Keith get jiggy with it lmao, Zarkon's a creepy dickwad, Shiro's so dad i love him and his tacky sense of humor, sad boys AF (running gag w/ my friend & i), and lance always humiliates himself just like his creator (me) 
> 
> \--- UPDATE: i need to stop mixing Sendak & Zarkon's name. The run-down is that SENDAK is alive and ZARKON is not. Sorry for writing the wrong names, I fixed it as of 10/2  
> im dead inside

Obscenities were flying back and forth across the room, everyone barging in on their own to our apartment. All the news sources that cover the United States were plastered with articles and interviews of a potential ‘terrorist’ group residing in the very core of New York, and trying to chase down any possible evidence they could dig up from the scene of Nyma’s murder. Part of my soul felt like it was deteriorating, absently listening to the frenzied conversations of everyone in the room.

 

“It’s clearly one of the guys from that night, Pidge, the one who was more stout. I thought they were all arrested!”

 

“Hunk, it’s pretty fucking obvious that they aren’t. Now Keith and Lance are gonna be killed, I can’t deal with this. I should be digging into this, maybe I can hack the FBI again?”

 

“Okay, Pidge, Hunk, calm down. We’ll figure this out, let’s just allow Keith to continue on with his explanation. Before you two rudely interrupted.”

 

Shiro, being the voice of reason in the most chaotic of events, made the two panic-driven yellers come to a halt, signaling for Keith to speak. With a nod, Keith’s pale hands uncovered his phone, a photo of Sendak and Zarkon, with Keith in the middle, being unveiled. “Um… basically, I came to the conclusion that the one who killed Nyma, was Sendak, the one with spikey, faded-purple tufts of hair. His brother, Zarkon, with red-and-black hair, was who I dated… and, um…” Sighing with a hesitant connotation, his finger was rubbing the bottom of his nose, avoiding the glares of the attentive listeners. “Kinda’ killed? Not, like, directly, but still. Anyways, not the point, Sendak’s the one who is after Lance and I, and possibly, you guys. I’ll try everything in my power to stop it from happening, but I don’t know what will work… maybe I should just turn myself in to the _Sphinx_.”

 

My body flung to their direction before I knew it, quite offended by Keith’s proclamation. “Hell no, you idiot, we’re not letting you go. That’s like asking one of us to sacrifice ourselves… I don’t – none of us want that.” Pidge and Allura nodded in unison, Shiro’s eyebrows furrowing down with each moment of silence. “Don’t you fucking dare do that, you hear me? We… we’re a team, and I don’t know what I’d do if any of you disappeared.”

 

Hunk gave a thumbs up in Keith’s direction, and Pidge flicked him off at the same time, despite the growing smile playing on their lips. A wicked blush appeared on his face from the unsubtle notions of kindness, and he sniffled, eyes planted straight on the ground. Daringly, I wrapped my arms around Keith, cradling him ever so slightly, rocking back-and-forth; something that Mama would do when I was upset as a kid. It seemed to work for a bit, his back noticeably becoming less tense, until Hunk jumped in on us, then Pidge, Shiro, and Allura. We looked like a team of football players huddled together, but affectionately. A bubble of warmth was expanding in my body, instead of the sinister, frigid feeling Nyma gives me.

 

This was right, this was good. And I’ll do anything I can do protect what we have.

 

In the midst of the group-hug, Keith’s left, fingerless-gloved hand clasped itself into my own, tightly squeezing it. The subtle gesture was enough to make my heart swell, and I wouldn’t have believed that such a simple action could portray a lifetime of feelings. Fuck, I’m so gone. I’m undeniably, one-hundred-percent, enchanted by Keith.

 

\--

 

I never noticed how long Keith and I were outside.

 

After everyone sculpted out a plan of action (for which, he never let go of my hand), they all left, and Keith dragged me out of the apartment, placing me in a light sweater ‘in case I get cold.’ _A hoe never gets cold_.

 

At this point, sun was setting, an explosion of oranges, reds, pinks, and purples dusting the horizon, and Keith’s cheeks. In my opinion, he looks the best in shades of red, specifically neon, maroon, and my personal favorite – crimson. The darkening sky was splashing the color across his features, and I wasn’t sure if I was more intrigued by the surreal moonrise, or his face.

 

Keith’s eyes flicked over to meet mine, making me get flustered as soon as he realized I was already _ogling_ at him. “Lance… I took you out here to look at the sunset together, not to stare at each other.” Damn it.

 

“I-I- I definitely was not staring. You don’t know what you’re talking about, with your cocky words and alluring eyes. Nope.”

 

He shifted on his side, bringing his face even closer to mine. By close, I mean that our noses were on the brink of touching, and if there was a word more expressive than beautiful, that’s what I would use to portray just how gorgeous he truly was in that moment. The ever-familiarizing sensation of butterflies, and a vortex, simultaneously formed inside of my stomach, observing every single centimeter of his attributes. How he has a light-brown freckle on both of his eyelids. His abnormally-long eyelashes, that flutter each time he blinks. The silky, luscious texture of his tacky-yet-endearing mullet. Keith’s incredibly-kissable lips. How his hands cup my cheeks, thumbs rubbing circles against the scorching-skin.

 

 _Woah, that woke me up_. Keith’s very-plump lips curled up, one of his front teeth grazing the bottom lip mid-smile. “You think I’m alluring?” Fuck _yeah_ I do. Still caressing my face, the soft collision of our foreheads was enough to make him laugh, the most genuine, lovely chuckle bouncing back between my eardrums. “If I’m alluring, Lance, you’re invigoratingly enticing.” _Who taught him that, where is the emo geek Keith who I pined after_?

 

“Fuck…” Fiercely biting my lips, I tried to contain my roaring emotions, yet couldn’t peel my eyes from Keith’s strawberry-tinted ones. _I’m so deep, I’m going to fall any second. It’s killing me_. The freezing dew on the grass startled me, gripping onto it for dear life to escape his hypnotism. Clearly to no avail; his hands, shrouded in nearly-complete darkness, explored my chest, streaming down to the band of my joggers. _Shit, don’t do it, don’t look down, Lance_. Look up. _Damnit, Keith’s head is tilted… and those_ fucking _eyes_. _They were still planted on my face, completely emotionless. As if he was intensely focused on my every move – I was a goner_. “Ke-Keith, we’re in public.”

 

“Does it really matter to you?” The gruffness was electrifying, his one hand skillfully dipping into my pants. Keith’s fingers tickled the rising-boner above my boxers, an unknown sound coming from me in response. “Isn’t it kind of exciting? I’ve been on edge for hours, just knowing you were right there.” _And there it is, the irresistible smirk_. “Don’t mind me. Just relax, and enjoy.”

 

“How can I – _fuuckkkk_ , relax?” Gently buckling my hips forward, I noticed how his glare evolved to an even-more intense one after that comment, and closed my eyelids shut, grueling giving into the pleasure. “You’re… you’re just so…” Lust shocked my body, as if it was a lightning strike so ferocious, it caused a wildfire, my eyes flying back open. “I love you, _damnit_.”

 

Not able to control myself, being manipulated by my libido, I pounced onto his lap, straddling him. The hand that was playing with me, was flattened-out on the grass, an unfathomable expression of astonishment on his face. Grunting, I bent down, laying my mouth on top of his, and instantly tonguing-open the tiny hole he had vulnerable. An indescribably-sexy moan was rattling out from Keith, lifting the both of us into a sitting-position, never breaking contact: in fact, we initiated even more, his nails digging through the knitted-sweater I had on. The kiss was abandoned, only for him to suck down to the crease of my neck, shuddering from the arousing activity.

 

If I was a blueprint, Keith deciphered me wholly, knowing every place that would send explosive shocks of thrill on my body.

 

Gasping from the bands of love bites and hickeys he left on my skin, his tongue licked every single one, my teeth gritting from the mix of pain-and-bliss, grinding into his lap with more and more vigor, until I couldn’t contain it anymore, and forced him off, hoisting his faded-peach hoodie, until it was thrown onto the wet grass. The provocative grin he had on never diminished, even undressing me right after my impulsive response.

 

“ **Lance** , come here.” Opening up his mouth in a dramatic display, I caved in, kissing with such a passionate, lusty drive, the both of us touching each other all over with desperate urgency. The sun was fully out of sight, millions of stars twinkling in the black abyss, but the real star was right in front of me, thrusting his nude shaft against mine, grunting every few seconds.

 

My fingers whirled around to his bottom, stroking where his entrance is, rewarded with a drastic cry from Keith. Humming throughout the fingering, we eventually split from the make-out, attentively watching each other with hungry gazes. One finger, then two, and finally, three went in, his grousing becoming more prominent.

 

“Fucking hell, no more…” His self-control was ridiculous, as he lifted himself off of my fingers, and instead, pushed me down onto the condensation-soaked meadow, mounting me on his own accord. “If we’re doing this, you’re _not_ going to be slow and gentle. _Fuck_ me, don’t just _finger_ me.” I didn’t have time to be aghast, because he already guided me inside of him, licking his lips for extra-emphasis.

 

Cloud nine really does exist, I swear.

 

In the middle of fucking nowhere, Keith was riding me like a pro, panting with each thrust he made to start us off. The slapping-sounds of skin didn’t bother me as much as it did my first time, in fact, it was sensual in a way I wouldn’t have expected… I was getting turned on like never before, and felt like some kind of predator, roughly biting on his nipples once I sat up, his husky winces fomenting me even further, experimenting with spanking his cheeks. Which he enjoyed, simpering with such an erotic connotation behind it. _I was high on life, high on Keith, and high on love._  

 

“ _Lance_!”

 

Pricking my teeth into his neck, I lead him around on my own terms, bouncing him up-and-down at a faster pace, and his insistent pleas made me want to do something for him.

 

“You look so good, baby,” Grunting into his jawline, I slathered him in pecks, going down in a zig-zag line on his neck, and wanted to try something new – taking one hand off from his ass, I grazed the head of his cock with the free one. Recalling what I could from ninth-grade health class, I teased the area ~~I believed to be~~ called the frenulum, Keith promptly howling in pleasure, rolling down even harder on me, and into my palm.

 

It wasn’t too much longer before I could sense Keith’s climax building up, and with a couple of glides and flicks, his cum splattered out, lathering itself on my hand. He stopped the second after, an embarrassed, and guilty, expression facing my way.

 

I couldn’t refrain from bursting out into snickers. “K-Keith, it’s fine… now we’ve both been covered in each other’s ejaculation.”

 

“God, that’s so gross – wait, never even say ejaculation again. I went limp just hearing that.”

 

“ _That_ says different.” Reminding him that I still had his hard-as-a-rock dick in my hand, I lightly rubbed the tip, making him sink back down into me.

 

“A-asshole.”

 

“But I’m _your_ asshole, and technically in **_your_** \- “

 

“Just, _shut up_ and cum already!”

 

This wasn’t how I expected my first _real_ experience to end, but it felt... _healthy_. And _lovely_ (horny). How we could crack a joke while boning one another until our muscles ached to stopped. I may have been prey to quite the impressive collection of hickeys and bites, but Keith was too, and let’s not forget how sore he would be in the morning, from the three times we went at it and the ruthless smacks to the ass he gladly endured.

 

We almost went for a fourth time, but the sprinklers automatically turned on, soaking the two of us – and our discarded clothes – completely. Scurrying up, the two of us huddled up our clothes, and ran for it.

 

A security guard, God knows how old, flashed a light on us, and we stopped in our tracks, witnessing the purest wave of antipathy crash down on the ancient man’s face. Before his bone-cracking legs made it to us, we hurried off, streaking away into the almost-morning light, somehow managing to not run into any cops, kids, or offended ladies.

 

What a romantic evening.

 

\--

 

**_ KINKY SPACE NUNS _ **

 

 **caBROn** : ight it may be 3:19 in the morning, but guess what

 **caBROn** : I GOT LAID

 

 **#DAD** : what

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : WHY DID YOU WAKE MEEEEE UP FROM MY PRECIOUS SLEEP DO YOU ONLYT THINK WITH YOUR DICK

 **Pidgey CP 45** : plus yoUUUU ARE FORGETINGNG WE ADDED KETIH TO OUR GROUP CHAT

 

 **Zuko Kogane** : we did? I thought that when we streaked naked, and dogs barked at us, was a nightmare I just had.

 

 **caBROn** : rude!

 

 **Allurduh** : who bottomed

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : KYYYAHAHAHHAHAAH

 **Pidgey CP 45** : AND WITH THAT, LADIES, IM OUT

 

 **caBROn** : piDGE DNONT LEAVE ALLURAIS THE ONLLY FEMALE HERE PLSS

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : I, an innocent virgin, who is of the church, cannot condone these sinful actions. I must practice reciting the bible front-and-back. Sister Mary Eunice is waiting for me at the alter to help the priest give thirteen-year-olds their confirmation

 

 **Hunky Man** : pidge don’t even lie you lost your virginity in the back of a flower shop with your then-girlfriend

 **Hunky Man** : you over glorified, and bragged, about it for weeks

 **Hunky Man** : you wrote five fake-deep slam poetry poems for her

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : we don’t talk about that

 

 **Hunky Man** : pidge, she dumped you over getting coffee

 

 **Allurduh** : whoever is walking funny tomorrow will be the bottom I can sense it

 

 **#DAD** : I’m having a heart attack

 

 **caBROn** : sorry dad

 

 **Allurduh** : thought keith was your new #daddy

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : LOLOLOLOLOLOLLOOOLLOOLOLL

 

 **Hunky Man:** BYEEEEEE

 

 **Zuko Kogane** : more like lance is papi

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : LOLOL GOOD ONE

 **Pidgey CP 45** : wait

 **Pidgey CP 45** : WAIT A MINUTE

 

 **Hunky Man** : oh

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : MY

 

 **Hunky Man** : GGGGGOD

 

 **Allurduh** : LANCE IS SEMEN

 **Allurduh** : SEME

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : I CANT TELL WHAT IS MAKING ME TRRULYL LAUGH ANYMORE WHETHER IT WAS THE REVELATION THAT LANCE IS PAPI CHULO, ALLURA DECIPHERED THAT LANCE IS A TOP, OR THAT SHE C

 **Pidgey CP 45** : CALLED LANCE SEMEN

 **Pidgey CP 45** : IM WEAK WHERES MY INHALER

 

 **Zuko Kogane** : ʘ‿ʘ

 

 **#DAD** : jesus… jesus Christ

 **#DAD:** lance

 

 **caBROn** : gotta blast!

 

 

 

 

Chuckling as I was unlocking the door to my apartment, I tossed the now-bagged clothes into the corner of the living room, and headed straight for the shower, needing to clean off all the cum, grass-residue, and sweat off of my frame. Whistling, I tiptoed to my bedroom, swinging open the linen closet to get a towel out, before I heard something _click_.

 

And not just anything, it was a _door_. _My_ door.

 

“Zelda, don’t go playing tricks like that- “

 

“Haven’t seen you that exposed in years.”

 

 _Buff- Sendak_.

 

Turning around to his general direction, I could only imagine how horrified my expression must have been, witnessing the ever-murderous glint in his eyes. Whether the lights were on or off, there was no mistaking the bloodlust he contained, and I was more terrified now than ever before. _Think about it, when was the last time you felt genuine fear? That was the scariest night of your life. You weren’t that perturbed during the anxious dream you had, come to your senses about this. We’re in trouble_.

 

The frenzied noises coming from my phone didn’t startle me, as I was staring Sendak down, trying to blindly recognize what was around in my room for me to fight with. The stars, that won’t do anything… blankets, dirty clothes, acoustic guitar, shoes, glassware… _wait_.

 

Tilting my head forward, I dared to take a step, Sendak never losing his glare on me, and swooped up the heeled-boot from the floor, shoving it into his crotch area. With the (literally) painful distraction, I jumped over him, and expertly picked up the acoustic guitar, standing right by the window.

 

“G-geeet back here, you little shit!”

 

After his wobbling step, I screeched as high-pitched as possible, probably haunting millions of dogs’ eardrums. “Hunk! Call the polic – call Keith, _Buff_ is here!” Years of never finding out my assaulter’s name worked in our benefit, leaving him clueless.

 

“Buff?”

 

“Why would you blink for even a second, _pinche idiota_?”

 

I was right in front of his face, and although I was a few inches shorter, my arms made up for that difference in height, the acoustic guitar whacking into his head. Wooden shards and splinters were flying, and I was shielding my eyes from the impact, everything ending up scattered across the room. Hunk’s crazed, fast-paced talk with Keith was fading back into my consciousness, but my focus was paralyzed on Sendak, who bumped into the wall, a trail of blood tracing down with his body. _Oh God, did I just kill him_?

 

Padded-stepping sounds were coming closer, and Hunk’s ever-distinguished _gasp_ of shock made me come to the conclusion that I… _I did something wrong_. “Why didn’t you throw him out the window or something?! He’s still breathing!” He’s dea – _what_? Hunk’s iPhone flashlight brightened the _corpse’s_ body, and I recognized that the now bloodstained tattoo was rising up-and-down, signaling that the monster was still alive – still _breathing_.

 

“And, _Jesus_ , Lance! Put some clothes on!”

 

“W-we don’t have time! I need to get… I need to…”

 

Anxiety was flooding into every inch of my body, but I grabbed the fuzzy blanket littered on my bed, and made a run for it, hoping that my feet wouldn’t get any more blistered than they had been from earlier. I didn’t look back to see where my keys were – where Hunk was, but I knew exactly where I was going. I was going to Shiro’s apartment, who knows me better than I know myself.

\--

 

“Here, I know you like your coffee sweeter than I do,” Shiro placed the mug on his coffee table, and I nodded with appreciation, not being able to form words yet. “So… I guess something happened? One: you’re naked. Two: you’re wheezing, and I presume you didn’t bring your inhaler, because you are _naked_. Three: Your feet and arms are full of splinters and bruises. I’ll give you some time to relax, but you should get in the shower, and try to explain to me so I can help. Alright, buddy?”

 

I stayed completely still throughout his speech, partially listening to it – mostly focusing on the paranoid ideas I was creating. This whole summer, my worst memories have occurred besides 10th grade… would it have been different if Keith wasn’t here? No, it’s not entirely Keith’s fault: it’s mine for being such a pessimist, and a major fuckup. _It’s because we’re insecure, Lance. If you never lost your confidence and self-esteem, would all of your issues even happen_? Maybe, maybe not, but I do know that I have been the root of multiple mistakes in all of our lives. And I’ll never get over how much I have hurt the people in my atmosphere, in my group of friends…. Because I’m too skeptical and dubious to trust, and be honest.

 

Maybe, in another life, things would have been different… but would I be _happy_?

 

“ _I stopped wishing I was dead_!”

 

Jumping up on the couch, I was startled from Shiro’s yelling, drumming away to “Using” by _Sorority Noise_ , his favorite song. And, dear God, was it fucking relevant to my life, more-so now than ever. I didn’t notice my foot lazily tapping away, guzzling down the sweltering-hot coffee, which wasn’t nearly as sweet as I make mine. It’s _bitter_ , and it’s _comforting_. Just like the raspy, raw voice Shiro possesses, hitting the notes better than any pop punk vocalist ever could.

 

Through the most unethical methods, I cheered up slowly. Nothing happened to me this time, I’ve been fine so far… it’s been nobody but myself that has hurt me recently. In the end, it’s the perpetual shitstorm between my rationality and my paranoid anxiety, no matter the situation I am in.

 

Droplets of tears were falling onto my mug, but I was more content with how I felt now, than the past few years. _It’s alright to be in pain, it’s normal to cry away your sorrows, and it’s okay to be broken. You’re on a trek to an oasis far more extravagant than your own mind can fathom, and you’re only stopping yourself from traveling the high road_.

 

Snickering to myself, I shifted my gaze onto the rooftop, counting the number of milky-white bumps there was. “I think pop punk may just be the right genre for me, even though Dan Lambton has been a hottie to me since you introduced me to it.”

 

“Dan Lambton is hot to everyone.”

 

“You’re right, as always.”

 

Shiro’s soothing chortle gradually became louder, until I realized he was right next to me, plopped down onto the loveseat. The drumsticks were thumping against my thighs, Shiro humming a made-up beat that sounded somewhat similar to an upbeat shoujo soundtrack. Or maybe _Naruto_ , I couldn’t distinguish the difference. Either way, it was tickling, and I was uncontrollably wheezing.

 

“So, do you want to talk about it, Astro-Lance?”

 

“I thought we got over that phase years ago.”

 

“How could I forget the nugget incident? You’re about as angsty now as I was back then, the name is suitable.” _Spot on, but what did I expect_? Halfheartedly, I leaned my head onto his left shoulder, trying to muster up the right words.  “You know… I can’t make everyone happy. I’m not a therapist, and even if I was, that wouldn’t fix everything to the way it was originally. I’m still a demolished version of myself, and I think that’s alright. Sometimes it’s better to recognize your faults, rather than shielding them away from those who care, and your own self.” The gulp he took was unnerving, Shiro’s prosthetic hand clenching up slightly. “You’ll lose sight of what’s important, if you don’t accept what’s happened.”

 

Sometimes, I overlook how much Shiro’s been through, and everyone else I surround myself with.

 

Placing my hand over his own, I gave an encouraging squeeze, gently swaying our connected arms left-and-right. “I saw Sendak, he knows… he knows where I live. I was panicking, and I couldn’t make out every scene that was happening. But I do know that I kicked him in the balls, and I slammed my favorite acoustic guitar over his gross head. And then, I ended up here.” Nervously grinning, I let out a pent-up sigh, recollecting my thoughts. “Kinda’ blacked out, but not completely. I don’t know where Hunk is right now, I just… hope he’s alright. I hate getting people involved with my own problems – hell, you understand that better than anyone.”

 

The white tufts of his hair bounced as his vigorous boom of laughter vibrated throughout both of our frames, although it wasn’t as positive of one as before. “You’re right on that, buddy. I’m pretty sure Sendak's spirits were so defeated, that he left with the guitar still on his head. We’ll get through this, though. Don’t worry, Lance… I’m really glad you shared that with me. One step at a time, okay?”

 

I bobbed my head in agreement, both of our heads on each other, and staring forward at the TV, some commercial flashing on after the news. If this scene was in a John Green movie adaption, it would have “Heroes” playing, dramatic parameters flying around us. But sadly, it wasn’t, and it wasn’t an inspirational, melancholic moment. We both were dejected, and suffering from what we’ve been through. The tears dropping on the back of my neck were unmistakable, but I didn’t bring it up: I was crying into his, too.

 

“Fuck, I can’t stand this anymore…”

 

I curled my arms around his neck, and straight-up bawled into his shoulder, Shiro following shortly after. The two of us could have made a lagoon completely out of how much we wailed that night, but it wasn’t wasted in vain. It cleansed out all the worries I had inside, and everything was beginning to make sense midway through the grieving session.

 

If I had to move on from my past, I had to move forward with my present, and aim for a future brighter than one I would have expected from someone like me.

 

\--

 

“Those pants are way too loose, go put on a belt… but before you do, what do you want in your omelet?”

 

“Green peppers, onions, tomatoes… I don’t really care, surprise me.”

 

Yawning, I pulled up the baggy sweatpants Shiro offered me, ruffling up the _Ramones_ shirt that’s worn by every single Tumblr girl. Belts weren’t happening with these unflattering sweats, so I just tied up the strings as tightly as I possibly could, and got yet another cup of coffee. I may have slept for only two hours, but I needed some more caffeine to cancel out my deathly morning personality.

 

Hardcore music was pulsating throughout his fancy countertop, the clean-as-fuck laptop looping the same playlist he listens to when working out. Observing his every move, I mentally made notes on how he flips the pan with his right arm, and cracked more eggs with his bionic one, or how he always rubbed the excess materials on his fingers off on the lame autumn apron he had. He was the domestic dad, except without kids… and a partner.

 

Cheesing to myself, I dug out the phone I had in the right-gray pocket, scrolling through a surfeit of messages and calls: in which Hunk’s texts mostly made the list. The last one was from Keith, seven minutes ago, in the group chat. I guess it would be a suitable time to ring somebody up now, since it’s eight in the morning.

 

Typing in Keith’s contact number, I hesitated before pressing down on the call option, going through a couple of beeps before the line was picked up.

 

“Lance, is that you?” His voice was cracking, a strain of worry clouding his words. _Shit_.

 

 _I feel guilty as fuck_. “Uh… yeah, sorry I didn’t answer anyone last night, I just bolted out… I’m alright now, before you say anything, just gonna eat a kickass omelet made by Shiro in a few.”

 

“…. You’re with Shiro?” Oh, God, now he sounds like I stabbed him in the back. “You should have called; we’ve been looking everywhere… no wonder neither of you have contacted us. Damnit, Lance.” The husky groan was enough to make the hair on the back of my neck stand up, as if I was electrocuted. “Um… sorry, I’m just stressed out. We’ve got Sendak's phone at the moment, so Pidge is decoding everything they possibly can, and Hunk’s going to resume doing research on the Sphinx when he’s on break. We’re all, we’re all trying to help. Please come by later.”

 

The man really knew how to grind my gears to make me feel the most intense versions of emotions. Swirls of regret, yearning, and appreciation took over my brain and heart; before I knew it, I already uttered out words that I couldn’t process. “I’ll see you later, let me eat some breakfast, alright? Love you.”

 

Pidge’s cackles, and a breathy gasp from Keith alarmed me to what I said.  
I hung up without any further notice.

 

“Really, Lance- “

 

“Don’t even, Shiro.”

 

The omelet was placed right in front of me, and I had to flush down the embarrassment of what I subconsciously spoke, stress-eating away all my panics yet again. And the teasing-expression Shiro wore did not help out my case at all. _Everything happens to me one after another… I need a break_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck me up 
> 
> having love interest troubles on my own terms rn and i wanna chop my head off  
> the guitar scene is based on my dad throwing my guitar at my sister when i was younger so its just... zoo wee mama 
> 
> trust me next chap will be better im so sorry for these fillers im just not feeling this  
> follow me on tumblr bc my sideblog is so empty & full of klance/anime @yungkuroko .... if you're into bandom then @emotionaldun !!! gracias thanks for sticking through this HORRENDOUS CHAPTER REST IN PEACE YOU AND ME ITS SO BAD


	11. ELEVEN: Coffee's For Closers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NO this isn't the finale chapter. YES i'm a sadistic bastard that likes to write hurtful things. told you guys that i would hit you up with some kickass chapter. well, this is kickass SCENE TWO, beginning in part twelve.
> 
> In which the title is finally CLEARLY referenced (yus), Keith is petty and jealous, Lance single-handedly remembers he hates Oedipus, Pidge is bae asf, superstitions, another puzzle (ANOTHER ONE. ANOTHER ONE.), Shay is my mom. What else is there... oh SHIRO HAS BEEN THROUGH TOO MUCH, I'm addicted to Mystic Messenger & made my favs also obsessed, Keith's problematic, who tf is Sendak and why is he in this story. we don't like sendak. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS: blood, flashbacks, anxiety, high school reading spoilers, Pidge is aggressive (oh shit) ((does anyone even remember this reference)), weapons, extreme angst pain
> 
> also i have monday & tuesday off bc of the Jewish holidays. i love living in new york. fuck florida

Parting from Shiro was the easy part: all I had to do was help clean up the dishes, collect my blanket, and bid him farewell. However, what I wasn’t prepared to see on my way to Keith’s apartment, was a trail of blood following the exact directions he gave me. They must have been old, all crusted over… it had the exact resemblance of paint. The smell it omitted, though, would say different.

 

All the way until the trash can behind the apartment building, there was a path of blood splatters, switching from prolonged ones, footprints, and just actual droplets.

 

Holding down on my nostrils, I gave myself a false confidence to check what was behind the trash, and tiptoed to the back, using a stick to open it up when there was nothing on the outside. Little by little, the lid creaked wide open, and flung back, scratching up against the decrepit bricks.

“Oh, for _FUCKS SAKE_.”

 

The guitar was in there, along with numerous strands of hair… a few of them appearing to be _blonde_. There was only _one_ blonde involved in this.

 

\--

 

Stomping up the stairs until I reached the third level, I ferociously knocked on room 317’s door, panting with worry, fury, and confusion. When I wasn’t beating up the door, I was fidgeting with my feet, and if I wasn’t doing that, I was sighing every other two seconds. It took half a minute for somebody to come to the door, and it swung open, Pidge’s shit-eating grin being the first thing I see.

 

“Soyez les bienvenus chez moi.”

 

“Don’t have time for your French jokes, Pidge, where’s Keith? We need to talk. It’s important.”

 

Pidge raised their hands up in defeat, and I barged right in, identifying Keith right by the house phone, their body slowly moving towards me. His expressions ranged from shock – fear – relief – confusion – anger, all in record timing.

 

“Are you wearing Shiro’s clothes right now?”

 

“Um… yeah? What’s wrong with that, I didn’t have anything else with me besides a blanket. Not the point, the point is that right outside your fucking apartment, there’s blood stains everywhere. The trash can currently is where my broken guitar – that cost me $1475 – is residing. So, I need some answers… how did it get here?” Pidge’s whistle of interest was enough to make goosebumps form on my arms, and I noticed how Keith’s eyes were twitching, staring down at the way-too-large clothes I borrowed. “God, Keith, what are we… twelve? It’s just for today, so answer my question. This is important.”

 

With a scoff, Keith crossed his arms, avoiding my face. That made me even more enraged, that I mindlessly balled up my fists, vehemently breathing through my nose to calm down; it did nothing to cease how much annoyance was swimming through my system. “Maybe if you weren’t **_busy_** , you’d have known that we got Sendak’s phone by beating the shit out of him. Hunk was out of it, probably because of the amount of blood there was, and the fact that you were GOD knows where! He chased us back to my apartment, and we fought him by the trash can, once he got a hold of the guitar. Don’t doubt me like that.”

 

I was not doubting. And the fact that Keith’s acting like this, the second we meet again, is quite frankly pissing me off. “Alright! So that’s settled, but there’s one more thing. There’s BLONDE hair inside of the broken strings, can your ‘fight’ story explain that?” Keith snubbed me after I spoke, and I was becoming more agitated with each breath, my hands smacking down onto my thighs as they fell. “God, Keith, why are you being so sour about this?! I’m here now, let’s discuss this like real adults. I don’t get why you’re being this childish, we have to find out why there was strands of different hair in the same guitar I hit him with. Do you have any ideas, Pidge?”

 

Blatantly ignoring Keith now, like the petty person I am, I smiled nervously at Pidge, who was glaring down at the floor, residing in a Substantial-Thinker position. “I think they might have Nyma: whether she is dead, alive, or in a coma. I mean, we didn’t see her get killed, right? And nobody has been keeping up on the news, we’ve been too occupied with hacking, planning, and attacking. Realistically, I believe there’s a chance Sendak encountered Nyma one way or another, probably before the incident, and still had the hair on him. Simply speaking, we’re doomed, and all I’ve got is a half-way hacked FBI account. Let’s stop the boyfriend drama, and get back to work. Lance, I’m gonna need you to help me decode and burn all the hard drives afterwards, and also help Hunk hunt down the _Sphinx_. Keith, you continue collecting evidence on any key members of the gang, and also, try to find Sendak’s real name. No parent would name their kid that unless they were too baked up on drugs.”

 

The two of us simultaneously gulped from their response, and parted ways. I followed Pidge into the sketchy, dilapidated living room, ripping apart Sendak’s flip-phone, and hacking on the extremely-ancient desktop. Grabbing a pair of latex gloves from the container, I started clicking away on the tacky phone, sticking my tongue out in thought. _If I was a creepy guy, where would I keep all of my important data_? Scrolling through the contacts, they all suspiciously had the whitest of 1920s names, except for two: Cumdump, and PHOENIX.

 

 _PHOENIX_ it is.

 

Static overtook the entire screen, along with a gif of a floating Sphinx. After a few seconds, a notification was flashing, a riddle appearing with the worst fucking font ever, Comic Sans. What were they, nine-year-old trolls back in 2007?

 

_What is that which has one voice and yet becomes four-  
footed and two-footed and three-footed?_

 

“Shit, one voice, four feet, then two, and three… I’m not some wizard, the fuck is this?” Nervously staring at the screen, there was a timer in the background as a few minutes passed by, counting backwards by each three seconds. Shit, if I wasn’t panicking before, I was panicking now. “Fuck, this is ridiculous… the only thing I remember about a four-two-three riddle was from that stupid book we read in ninth grade… Pidge, what was it called? _Antigone_?”

 

“Try again… _Oedipus_.”

 

“Pidge, you are a short genius, and I appreciate you.”

 

Oedipus. _Oedipus the King_ , one of Sophocles’ stories (which I absolutely hated). _What did you remember annotating during that hellish month-and-a-half, Lance? Think, think, think. Think until your brain fries like Spongebob, who you have no resemblance to at all._

 

Shit, nothing’s coming.

 

1:07

 

“Fuck, fuck, this is why I hate not remembering much prior to tenth grade.”

 

1:04

 

Come on, brainstorm! Alright, okay, Spongebob… he’s a sponge, yellow, and annoying… okay we’re both annoying, but what else is there? Finn was watching this episode when you were annotating that chapter, why can’t you remember – _sponge_.

 

“It’s human…”

 

“Um, Lance, I’m pretty fucking sure that’s a shitty phone, not a living homo sapien.”

 

“No, the answer. It’s _human_.” Pidge waved their hand to dismiss me, still typing rapidly with their left, while I typed in the answer. Instant relief coursed through my body, watching the screen return to normal and release a log of names only a few moments later. “Fucking jackpot, I got all the names from the past nine years the gang’s been active.”

 

Keith’s head spun around from the kitchen to look over at us, and Pidge’s demonic snickers were enough of an answer to understand how satisfied they were. It was enough of a distraction to nearly forget how much Keith was getting under my skin.

 

Stretching from the uncomfortable position I landed myself in, I trudged over to lean against the chair Pidge was occupying, watching them needle their way into the FBI’s system. The photo Keith had with his ex-boyfriend came in handy this time, since we were able to use facial recognition to trace down at least the right name. Or _names_ , I should say.

 

“Got it, I’m in. Looks like this ‘Sendak’ isn’t really too far from the truth: his name is Seneca Khamis, and he had a brother named Zarade.” Keith came closer with each word, ending up on the other side of the seat, peaking at the names and ID photos. “From the photos, I can tell they’re from Arab-African descent, but did they ever bring up a father or mother that was mixed? From the names and appearances, they look like they could be Sudanese and possibly… German? No, Irish?”

 

Keith inhaled deeply, air rattling in his throat before he answered Pidge’s curiosity. “Sudanese and Scandinavian. Their mom was half, their dad was Full-Sudanese, so they look a bit ethnic compared to most. Not that we don’t fit in that category, either.”

 

Quietly scoffing at his words, I tried to absorb the photos of the two to the best of my abilities, even seeing them when I had my eyes shut. Guess it’s time to go help out Hunk’s case, after all.

 

\--

 

_“And the sun’s up,  
and my head’s fucked.”_

 

Humming along to the obvious song choice of Allura’s, I stepped inside of the flourishing café, Black Gold having a significant increase in customers today. Hunk was busy being harassed by a balding-old fellow, his wrinkly fingers shaking as they bopped Hunk’s forehead backwards. Besides the obnoxious scene developing at the countertops, a few familiar people were sitting down, preparing for the next college semester coming up in a couple of weeks. Physics predominantly, and I gritted my teeth at the sight of the book, trying to control all the envy I possessed into the bottle of emotions I always keep full.

 

Allura’s silver hair popped out from the room behind the now-anxious Hunk, inspecting the venue until her eyes landed on me. Her accent always shined when she was enthusiastic or mad, and once she shrieked ever so lightly, I knew I was a goner.

 

“Allura!”

“Lance!”

“Alluraaaaaa~!”

“Lancceeeee!”

 

“A- _Allura_?”

“LaaA _AANCEEEEE_!”

 

I was body-slammed into the flower pot by the window.

 

“Why didn’t you call? We were worried sick, I almost had five strokes in the past two hours wondering where you were. Dear God, you’re lucky that I didn’t call Mama Sanchez or else your ass would be toast and I would be tearing you into shreds. You need to be responsible when it comes to these kind of things, for the sake of my own life! Now, come here, we need to talk about these douchebags who keep coming up on the news inside.”

 

And, once again, I was being pulled around by Allura’s insanely-muscular arms, despite the few inches of height I gained on her. Hunk still didn’t notice I was around, and I was shoved down into the horrendously-cramped seat I always used, Allura turning on the TV before I could even _blink_.

 

“Basically, Nyma’s husband has been interviewed via Skype, Nyma’s been announced to be ‘missing,’ the hooded figure – Sendak – has reappeared on the screen three times the past day, and your apartment complex was listed as a place to be attacked. So, there’s room for my worries to be discarded from being ‘overly-paranoid.’”

 

Snorting, I slid down the chair, attempting to form any coherent sentences to let her troubles fade away. “Let’s see… I already figured out that something like that would happen. Her hair was in my broken guitar. So, it’s safe to say that even without the news, I had the gist of it.” Allura’s exhale was clearly one of relief, and I softly smiled at her, giving the best impression of ‘having my shit together,’ even though I was still on edge after everything, including Keith this morning. “When is Hunk’s break? I was sent here to help him work on some kind of gadget or whatever.”

 

As if on cue, Hunk’s headband was ripped off, wiping away the sweat forming on his forehead. “Thanks for filling in today, Allura, sorry to call you in on your off day – “  His eyes widened to the size of headlights, until he ran over to where I was, pulling me into a constricting hug. “God, I’m so glad you’re alright… I almost broke down, like, twenty times since working this morning. What happened last night?”

 

“Ah, um, I auto-piloted my way to Shiro’s apartment. AKA why Keith is being rude this morning, is because I borrowed Shiro’s clothes, which you know is because I went there completely _nude_ and covering myself with a blanket.”

 

Allura cracked her fingers, and appeared to have some kind of anime glint in her eyes. Terrifying. “I’ll kick his ass. I wasn’t expecting him to be possessive like that…”

 

“H-he could just be on edge, I mean, Lance sorta’ kinda’ didn’t contact any of us the whole night.” Hunk reasoned, placing his whipped-cream-covered arm in front of her so she wouldn’t overstep her boundaries. “He wouldn’t stop spamming me with his impractical worries: maybe he was hurt that you went to Shiro instead of him?”

 

Why would that bother him? I’ve known Shiro longer than I’ve even been together with Keith, and in the end, that tops any bond that I could develop with someone in a short period of time. “That doesn’t make sense to me… I didn’t do anything wrong. Right?”

 

Hunk’s calming sigh only made the doubts worse, his free arm snaking up behind my neck. “It’ll be alright, Keith’s just a ball of unnecessary distress. Don’t even believe for one second that it’s your fault, you just did what you felt was right in that moment. We trust you.”

 

“And we always will,” Allura joined in, hip-bumping me on the right.

 

The boisterous, amiable laugh that Hunk made was enough to settle down the initiation of any anxiety inside of me. “Well, I say we call everyone up here, and plan out what our next move will be. Sounds good to you all?”

 

\--

 

As soon as Keith arrived fashionably late – which made zero sense, considering he was with Pidge the entire day – everyone in the back room immediately evacuated. Even Shiro, who traveled an extremely long way from where he was volunteering today. However, I was grateful for my friends being meddling shitheads: especially now, in this very moment, more than ever before. Keith’s fingers swirled in his hair, a choleric frown on his lips.

 

Once my eyes trailed back up to meet his, Keith immediately moved his gaze elsewhere, a flicker of worry appearing on his face. I caved in first. “Keith, why are you mad at me?”

 

It seemed that I stepped on a landmine; Keith’s fists clenched up, varied frantic emotions projecting on his usually-stable face. “I was fucking worried the entire night, and you didn’t even tell me you were at Shiro’s. We thought something bad could have happened, for Christ’s sake, and I was more than pissed to see you wearing…”

 

“What, Shiro’s _clothes_?” Keith dipped his head, and with an offended sigh, I could feel my eyes widening in disbelief. “Keith, are you serious? Listen, I don’t know if you realized or not, but for starters, nothing is happening between us… like, ever. Secondly, he’s helped me out of my depression the most, and I’m always going to owe him for that. Even last night, he pulled through for someone like me, and we both confided in the other. Lastly, you’re who I’m undeniably in love with, so why are you worrying about that?! I wouldn’t ever betray you, and I’m kind of hurt that you would even think that I would.”

 

His mouth parted to say something, but he shamefully stopped before doing so, gripping even tighter onto the roots of his head.

 

“Damnit Lance, you just don’t… you don’t get it… I’m constantly in a state of anxiety because of what’s happened, and I _can’t control that_!” Backing into the wall, Keith’s head banged into the picture frame, falling down to the floor in a crouched position. “Sendak’s out to kill us, and you expect me to _relax_? Even with Shiro, I’m worried! I’m more worried something’s going to happen to _you_ , because I could care less if he even kills me. I _deserve_ it, I’m the only one who _fucking_ deserves this! I took part in his brother’s death!” Repeatedly, he viciously dragged his nails across his face, flakes of skin floating down to the concrete floor. “It’s my fault in the first place – if, if it wasn’t for me, none of this would happen. I’m an omen for anybody who even comes in contact with me, all I bring is misfortune, and pain, and grief… I’m some fucked up human-monster hybrid. It’s _not okay_!”

 

It settled in moments after starting his display, that Keith Kogane was having a massive anxious breakdown.

 

“It’s all because of me… I’m sorry- “

 

“Don’t apologize for something that’s out of your control,” A stern tone controlled my words, smoothly flowing out with faultless concentration. “You were hurt multiple times in your life, and it just so happens that one of the most influential figures of the _Sphinx_ , Sendak, was the brother of your abusive ex, who you most certainly did _not_ kill. Whether you were there at the time of his death, or the fact that you didn’t end his misery… that doesn’t matter. You’re innocent.”

 

Locking my fingers into Keith’s trembling hands, I massaged circles and figure-eights into his rough palms, a habit I picked up to stop my panic attacks. “You and I will be alright, we’ll figure this out, okay? We’ll… we’re going to work something out, I promise, we just need some more time. None of us will go back on our promise.”

 

The raw cheeks of his were exposed, tears streaming down the red-and-pale skin adoring his features. A timid nod came from Keith, tightening the grasp he had of my hands. Through all the vulnerable moments we had with each other, this was the one that made me truly understand how troubled Keith’s life was. Not only was I a mess, Keith was even more of a broken person, walking amongst the line between damaged and irreparable.

 

I felt that a simple blow could ignite a deadly combustion.

 

Frequent reassurances and kisses to his forehead managed to bring him back to a neutral state of mind, and Keith uncharacteristically parted our hands, looping his arms around my back. A tiny smile was forming on my lips, pressed into Keith’s thick shirt, while swaying the both of us side-to-side. Puffs of his tantalizing cinnamon and coffee smell was driving me insane, and even though it may be contradicting, it made me feel at peace.

 

“I… kind of want a coffee now,” Keith mumbled into my shoulder, laughter erupting out of me instantly. He was either some philosophical poet, or a clueless ass when it came to speaking, and right now, it was obviously the second one. “W-what’s so funny?”

 

Shaking my head, I repositioned myself on the ground, knocking my head playfully into his. “You are.”

 

\--

 

Instead of risking another invasion at my apartment, we decided to go back to Keith’s (although it’s not much safer) after Hunk made us ‘make-up’ coffees, and I was lead into his bedroom, not capable of hiding the giddy grin that was growing every second. Even though the outside was not the most lovely of appearances, Keith’s room had a simplistic aesthetic and comfortability to it. Unlike my room, the wall was full of spray-painted-white bricks, a few posters of alien conspiracies and monochrome art decorating the small place. He was telling me the stories of how he bought most of the stuff on his own, having a sparse-few things being from his childhood. The one item that stuck out the most, was the trio of black crystals hanging from his broken mirror, my superstitious ass cringing at the sight of it.

 

Turning on the prehistoric TV on his dresser, Keith curled up onto the bed, using the toss blanket on the end of his bed as a cape to keep warm. I could make out that his hand was patting down the space next to him under the blanket, and after dramatically rolling my eyes, I joined him, cuddling under the self-titled cape.

 

 _Boy Meets World_ had a static-hum coming from the intro, but I was more focused on how Keith’s breath would occasionally get a choked-wheeze; something was off about it, and I wanted to find out what was distressing him. Curiosity and patience both raged inside of me, unsure of which route I should continue on with this certain situation. Instead, I squinted my eyes, watching Keith take sips of his coffee every forty-seven seconds.

 

Even if he caught me a few times, I didn’t cease my observation.

 

Until my phone went off.

 

_“Though change will come, oh change will come,_

_I will never believe in anything again”_

 

Keith jumped from the volume of the song, and I did, too, rustling amongst the bed to locate my phone, which I was sitting on. The ringtone was from the group chat, and I knew I had to check up in it due to Shiro’s last message.

 

 

**_ KINKY SPACE NUNS _ **

**#DAD** : Pidge and I found where Sendak's living

 **#DAD** : we’re planning on turning him in to the police

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : NNOT BEFORE I SKIN HIM

 

 **#DAD:** Pidge

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : CMONNN LET ME LIVE

 

 **Allurduh** : take my pepper spray I always bring with me. I condone your behavior

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : MOM!

 

 **Hunky Man** : so you found it? Where is it?

 

 **#DAD** : Surprisingly, Queens

 **#DAD:** we’re gonna need to catch a ride out there

 **#DAD** : but something’s bothering me….

 **#DAD** : Pidge, what did you say their real names were again?

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : Zarkon? It’s Zarade and Seneca Khamis.

 **Pidgey CP 45** : thanks to LANCE I was distracted bc of that stupid Oedipus thing fucking christ

 

 **#DAD** : Bad news. Zarade’s my old landlord, you know, the one who made me get… yeah

 

 

 

Keith noticed that I tensed up from the comment, and I recalled the conversation we had years ago as if it happened today.

 

_“Is that why you have a prosthetic?”  
“Nah, bud, my ex-landlord chopped off my arm because I found out he had tried to kill his boyfriend at the time. It’s all good, though, at least now I can make jokes about being a robot.”_

 

Clutching my phone, I turned my head to meet Keith’s, showing him the message since he is also part of the group. “Zarade- _Zarkon_ was the one who made Shiro get a prosthetic arm… He usually doesn’t bring up much about his past, but I know in the short period of time that I missed school, his landlord abused him for his lifestyle, selling weed and stripping just so he could have his own place. It… strangely makes sense, in the end, that Sendak was the one who tied it all back together. First, it was Sendak who assaulted me, and then Zarkon who hurt Shir- “

 

“Wait, Sendak was one of those three who did that to you?”

 

Again, Keith’s anger was visible today, and I could make out the beginning of his shoulders tensing up while staring at the rest of the conversation.

 

“Um… weren’t you paying attention to us yesterday? We brought it up in the brainstorming conversation, but… you know what, it’s not worth worrying right now. We’re safe at the moment, and Shiro’s now involved, too. With that, we’ll be unstoppable.” Flashing momentary uneasiness, I nudged Keith’s arm, in an attempt to cool him off before blowing his top off. “Trust me… You, you _can_ trust me, right?”

 

 **Hesitation**.

 

Who was able to mistake the distinct look of hesitation? It was right in front of me: Keith’s eyebrows rising up, eyes slowly drifting to the left, lips slightly pouting. _He’s hiding_.

 

Replacing his flitting frown, he expressed a false sense of security, lifting up the corners of his mouth while leaning his head on my chest. “Of course.” _Liar_. Placing a soft peck on the side of my jaw, he snuggled up onto my left side, legs coiling up around my own, like a snake.

 

Maybe that was what this was, a serpent depleting its prey of life.

 

Swallowing from nerves, I allowed myself to get comfortable, scooting even further down the bed to avoid any possible kinks in my back from forming. Whether it was the warmth from sleeping with someone, or wanting to stop the ever-growing mistrust in my stomach, I managed to fall asleep in Keith’s arms.

 

\--

 

_I couldn’t breathe._

 

Jumping up from my slumber, the room was engulfed in total darkness, the opposite from how I prefer to sleep. My numb hand searched for the light that would be by my bed, but it wasn’t there. Why wasn’t it there?

 

Wait, I’m at Keith’s apartment.

 

Drowsily rubbing my eyes, I scoured every inch of the room, nothing of importance being left except the broken-glass mirror. No body heat was exchanging to me – hell, there was no body _next_ to me.

 

Keith was absent, and without telling me, he was not here.

 

I yawned while sluggishly propping myself up on my own two feet, the floor icy cold as I plodded out of the bedroom. The only light source in the entire apartment, was the balcony light. And knowing how inquisitive I am in the worst moments, I opened the sliding doors leading to outside, a ripped-up letter on the floor.

 

Throwing aside my vile feelings for the dirty ground, I collected all the torn pieces, and spread it out on the table. Each one had a specific letter, or a pair of them, and I was left to scavenge this puzzle out on my own. Nevertheless, the scarlet-red ink was startling enough, and I’ve read _The Scarlet Letter_ one too-many times in high school English classes to realize where this was heading to. The new-founded diligence I possessed was enough for me to figure out a few pieces of the multi-paged letter, forming at least half of the sentence. “ ….. _Is…. ot he…. bu… s close. W_ …” Saying the puzzle out loud, I tried to decode it on my own with the remaining letters, forming literate sentences. “No…. nope…. Definitely not that one, we don’t even have that letter?” Sighing, I scattered the letters again, cursing myself for waking up groggily.

 

“Lance, just think. You cleared the stupid and tacky Oedipus rhyme, you can do this,” slapping my own face for reassurance, I paired specific letters together, creating words that made perfect sense: ‘not, but, watch’ were added to the mix. “Is not he… but… s close. Watch… _wait_.” The cartoon lightbulb turned on inside of my brain, and I checked the time – 8:34, and saw no messages from Keith. “ _Keith_ is not… _Keith_ is not _here_ , but _is_ close. Watch… yourself?”

 

Dialing up Shiro’s number, as if it was a reflex on its own, I was scurrying off of the balcony, grabbing my wallet, and darting out from the room, not even caring to close it fully. I had to get out, I needed to leave that place. If I was going to make it on time, I wasn’t going to stop for anything.

 

Together, we could find Keith. I have hope. _Don’t tell yourself lies_.

 

“Hey, Lance. You alright – woah, why are you breathing heavy?!”

 

Shiro’s perplexed words had no impression on me, as I opted to run down the stairs rather than use the elevator. “Keith’s… not here… note…”

 

“Slow down… Keith’s not with you? And there’s a note? What did it say?” Inhaling once I reached the last floor, I recalled what the note had said, and Shiro maintained his silence the entire time. “Alright, whatever you do, get the fuck out of there. I’m on my way, meet me at the- “

 

A heavy object fell on the other side of the call, and I heard Shiro’s grunt of pain. “S-Shiro?”

 

“We got Shiro and Keith, you’re next, Lance Sanchez. Or should I say… cumdump?” Freezing in my current spot, I heard footsteps coming behind me, the voice never stopping while Shiro’s yelps progressively got louder. “Watch yourself, Lance. We’re always around. In fact, we see you right now.” Turning backwards, I saw a flash of a gun behind the stairs, the same terrifying yellow hair that haunts my dreams coming into view. “Say bye to your friend’s arm now, once again.”

 

My eyes bugged out, Shiro’s shrieking and Nyma’s cackling mixing together to form the most dubious thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life. The purest form of torture, and the most demonic laughter, rattled my core.

 

The other side of the call had a surprising **_crash_** sound, pants coming from opposite sides. “Let go of me!”

 

“Miss me, _my love_?”

 

“You- you’re so dead, Seneca!”

 

_‘You… are **dead** , Lance!’_

 

“Lance, get-get out of there! Hurry!”

 

‘ _You’re mine, my love, why are  
you trying to leave me_?!’

My legs went limp, as I dropped straight to the floor, ripping out pieces of my hair when I tightly grabbed the roots. “This isn’t happening, this isn’t real, you aren’t real…”

 

Nyma was pacing around me in a circle, giggling in a silent-yet-perturbing way. “Lance, _my love_ , this is _happening_. This is _real life_ ; I am here right now.”

 

“No, no, no, it can’t be – you were dead!”

 

Glossed-lips rubbed on my ear, my whole body forming goosebumps and shivering, “I’m alive, but you won’t be for much longer. Neither will your friends, or your boyfriend.” A cold, metallic item was pressed against my neck, as Nyma’s most-horrifyingly lethal smile I’ve ever witnessed was right before me. “No matter what you do, or what you say, this will never end with a happy _bang_. The only _bang_ left is in this very gun, and that’ll be the last thing you’ll recognize before your life is completed.”

 

Between Shiro and Seneca fighting on speaker, Nyma’s fear-inducing speech, and my rationality crashing into a tsunami, I wasn’t sure what was happening.

 

“Who said anything about dying, now, little girl?”

Familiar… _why does that voice remind me of someone_?

“Too bad you’ll be the only one left behind in this mess.”

 _That’s_ –

 

Police sirens came from both sides of the phone call, Nyma shoved down onto the floor by someone double her size. The handcuffs’s clang rang throughout my eardrums longer than it should have, as Nyma was trying to stand up with the sheer power behind her legs only. Rolo and Shay high-fived each other, and waved goodbye to Nyma with such salty intentions, Shay even _literally_ kicking Nyma’s butt with the sharp heel of her combat boots.

 

“Fuck you! Fuck, I’ll sneak out again, don’t believe for one second that you’ll get away with this, Shay Saliba!”

 

Flipping the bangs of her pixie-cut to the side, Shay gave the most cunning smirk possible towards her direction. “وَداعاً (Farewell)!” Defeated, Nyma was escorted out by the two police officers, numerous profanities thrown our way. Rolo, once again, helped me up from the ground, nearly losing my balance while absorbing everything in.

 

This is real, Lance, but we made it out alive. Shiro’s made it out alive. Keith…

 

“And with that, Nyma’s husband is no longer considered a ‘widowed’ husband.” Rolo snorted, crossing his arms after I regained stability. “Anyways, you alright, man? The _Sphinx_ was crazy tonight with updates, and we wanted to know you were alright.”

 

Shay came even closer, side-hugging Rolo with a large beam on her face. “Yeah, we were coming up to see you and Keith, but those plans… have been brushed aside, for now. We have Keith’s location, luckily he didn’t forget his phone, but it’s… it’s not good news, Lance, I’m afraid.”

 

The two of them dodged my silent-worried looks, paranoia sizzling inside of my veins. “Where is Keith?”

 

No answer. Three more times, and there was still no response.

 

Shiro’s wail of pain made the three of us focus back onto the phone, practically feeling how much he was hurting from his ordeal. “That Seneca’s a pain in the ass… you alright, Lance?”

 

“Shiro?”

 

“Hey, Rolo! What’s up?!” His laugh was transparent, not masking the amount of discomfort he was in. Shay piped up from behind the two of us, attentively watching the spectacle occur. After the three of us telling each other that we were alright, Shiro’s gasp broke the friendly interaction. “I still have Sendak’s phone – oh my _God_ , Lance.”

 

I didn’t mind the sound of that.

 

“Keith… Keith broke free.”

 

Actually stumbling, Shay caught me in her goddess-esque arms, but I wasn’t paying attention onto who was cradling me. I now knew that Keith was okay… whether he was here, or not, Keith was fine.

 

Keith was safe. And that was all that mattered to me: not the oncoming heart-attack, not the bruise from the gun, not the slimy lip gloss on my ear.

 

Shay spoke first, words unwavering and straight to the point. “Where is he?”

 

\--

 

Blisters, wounds, and surgery…was nothing compared to seeing someone you love beaten up.

 

From the back of McSorley’s, Keith was covered in purple-and-blue bumps, the occasional dried-up red around vital areas. Once he came around the corner, I noticed the limp in his right leg, as he casually shifted to leaping on one foot. My nervous gulp didn’t go unnoticed, Keith’s puffy-lidded eyes awkwardly wide with surprise.

 

“Lance?! What – what are you, _fuck_ , doing here?”

 

Supporting himself on the gross wall, I bravely inched closer to him, hiding the forming-blemish on my neck. “For you, idiot. What… happened? Are you alright?” I didn’t want to bring up why he left, even though I desired to know the meaning behind this all… it would only create a bigger division between us.

 

My hand was slapped away, a murderous glint in Keith’s eyes, that were even distinguishable in this dark-lighting. The blood in my body curdled from the sight of it.

 

“I was sacrificing myself to end this. Don’t come near me.” Tilting my head unconsciously, I didn’t listen to his words, reaching out to touch him again. “I said, don’t fucking touch me!” First, I was held at gunpoint tonight. Now, I had a sharpened steak knife centered in on my heart, everyone shrilling in terror, even Shay. “Don’t… don’t do it.” As if he had a delayed realization, the knife slipped from his grasp, genuine fear and bloodlust written all over his face.

 

Without another word, Keith started to run away, even forcing himself to use his right leg. “Wait, Keith! Where are you going?!” Chasing after him was no use: Keith was stubborn, and refused to turn his head back while speaking.

 

“Leave me **_alone_** , Lance! For once!”

 

 

Monotone. With those six monotone words, my whole world burned down from his raging fire. I was covered by darkness, and my only solace singed into ashes. After the crackling of leaves and branches, there was nothing left of Keith besides the bloody knife.

 

“Lance… let’s go home,” Shiro tugged on my arm, but I was out of my mind. Everything was too much for me, this whole day has been a total disaster. And now, I was deprived of the one person who meant the whole universe to me. The one who made me believe I was special, that I didn’t deserve to feel down, that I shouldn’t harm myself. That I was loved. That Keith Kogane loved me.

 

My heart dissolved until nothing was left, and if I was in someone else’s body, I bet the own harshness of my words would be enough to cut something.

 

“Yeah, let’s go home. I’m done here.”

 

Rolo and Shay shared a worried glance, but I spun around before they could even utter a single word, stomping away on the road without a care in the world.

 

_‘Does this mean Keith is familia now, hermano?’_

 

Not anymore, Zoe.

 

‘ _Keith Kogane, you… you, leave me alone!’  
‘Leave me alone, Lance! For once!’_

It’s finally happening.

 

 _‘You were like a corpse on your bed.’_  
‘Your body is stardust, and you shine brighter than all the constellations in space.’  
‘Te amo con toda mi Alma.’  
**“I’m scared of living.”**

 

Blindly walking into my own apartment, I threw my wallet to the couch, hands clutching onto whatever was near me.

 

 _It’s your fault. You’re too scared to do anything, you’re always the center of others’ problems. You were deceived_.

 

I know I was.

 

 _You don’t have the right to be hurting from what you did to others_. I know. _Why would you consider yourself important? After all these years of having misery clouding you_? I thought I could change. _You thought wrong_.

 

How can I fix it? _It’s too late to repair things_.

 

 _Let him go_.  
You’re right.

 

Chuckling to myself, I wiped away the water from my eyes, straightening myself out. Hunk was coming out from his room, a bag of ketchup chips swinging in his hand. They’re calling my name.

 

“Oi, save some of those bastards for me! Or I’ll call your mom!”

 

Hunk’s squeal made an excuse to hide all my worries, going straight after him for some of those damn ketchup chips. They may be his favorite, but I won’t forgive him for eating all the dill pickle chips I smuggled up here from Florida. Placing him in a headlock on his messy bed, I noticed he was watching The Legend of Korra for the fifteenth time, and I gave him the Stink Eye.

 

“Hey, you know I can’t refuse badass chicks with bending powers.”

 

“Just start the episode, you hunky man.” Jokingly landing a hit on his shoulder, Hunk’s boisterous laughter cured all the problems that plagued me in that very moment, shaking everything from the force behind it: including the bed and me.

 

Getting my fair share of the chips, I lounged out across his catastrophe of a bed, making humorous commentary whenever the voice acting was particularly bad, or when Mako was a douchebag.

 

This is how life was like before Keith came in, and wreaked havoc on me. Since the storm’s ended, I’m going back to the way things were before: without him.

 

\--

 

“…And a Hazelnut Frappuccino, for the man of the morning.”

 

Hunk interrupted Pidge’s soliloquy about The Sims 3 versus The Sims 4, blessing the both of us with a free coffee since we had our first exams today. Fistbumping him, Pidge and I headed back towards our standard table, right by the window, and they resumed their heated discussion on why the graphics progressively get worse with each game.

 

 _“I can't explain a thing, I want everything_  
to change and stay the same, oh time  
doesn't care about anyone or anything…”

 

Bouncing my legs along to the beat of _Fall Out Boy’s_ song, I let myself become lost in the gorgeous voice of Patrick Stump, Pidge instantly offended by my actions.

 

“You’re divorcing me for Patrick Stump, huh? I thought you liked them emo boys, like Pete Wentz.” I shuddered from their words, and they acknowledged the mistake they made. After Keith and I cut off ties with one another two months back, I made a point to never bring it up, and one way or another, everyone caught on. Even Coran, who is always busy with playing keyboard, zoology, or grooming his mustache, was careful when it came to the topic of his disappearance.

 

This was true closure, even if it stung for the first few weeks.

 

Now that it was October, I was in high spirits. It’s my all-time favorite month, and Halloween has always been the holiday I look forward to the most. Pidge, Hunk, and I are all dressing up as our Harry Potter houses, going out for candy back home in Brentwood. Even though we are full-fledged adults, we do what we want, and we want some god damn candy.

 

Flicking my straw wrapper at Pidge’s glasses, I consumed a too-big of a gulp of coffee, choking a bit while swallowing. As soon as Pidge’s annoying chortle began, my phone’s Mystic Messenger notification vibrated on the table-top, and the two of us made awkward eye contact.

 

“Lance.”

 

“…. Yes?”

 

“Are you… are you really playing Mystic Messenger, too?”

 

“Don’t make fun of me for my life choices – wait. You, you too?”

 

Clasping our hands together, Pidge had anime sparkles dusting their glasses, a Cheshire Cat grin making dimples in their cheeks from previously having braces. “Damn right. I’m so in love with Jumin.”

 

“Wait, Jumin? What… I would have pinned you as more of a 707 kind of person!”

 

Dryly laughing, Pidge tipped their glasses up dramatically, eyebrows wiggling in the process. “Who said I’m not into some kinky, emotionally-deep assholes with money?”

 

“You literally dress like a hobo! At all events! And you’re ace!” Groaning into my seat, I was clicking on all the answers that seemed right, receiving multiple green hearts in MAX SPEED mode. “ _Yoosung_ is babe for days. _Yoosung_ won’t hurt me. _Yoosung_ will treat me right.”

 

“ **Yoosung** will have the most painful en- “

 

“We don’t speak of that in my house, Pidge Gunderson-Holt.”

 

Jokingly placing their hands up in defeat, the two of us uncontrollably snickered, coffee snorting out of my nostrils from mistakenly sipping when I thought I had enough of cackling. Everyone in the shop ogled with utter revulsion from the scene, Pidge slamming their head into the table from not being able to stop the laughing fit.

 

From _Fall Out Boy_ , to _MuteMath_ , _Phantogram_ , _Halsey_ , _PVRIS_ , and _The Front Bottoms_ , I could tell that this was Shiro’s specific playlist that he works out to, which meant that he was here today. He woke up on time today, despite having to go through surgery for his arm a month ago.

 

Speaking of the angelic-devil, he graced us with his presence, the bags under his eyes considerably worse from the last time we saw him.

 

“Good morning, I just finished my essay for Ms. Cannon’s class… Lance, are you playing Mystic Messenger?”

 

Pidge made an awkward puff at his comment, and I figured my face would become a red tomato if I refused his statement. “Yeah. It’s addicting.”

 

“Hmmm, Matt and I were playing that a few days ago. He says he’s team Jumin, but I’m completely team 707.” Pidge’s once-humored face dropped to one of disgust, snarling at the comment. I guess they don’t like having the same interests as their cooler older brother. What a shame.

 

The expression of angst went even deeper than that – after Matt entered Black Gold, Pidge had their signature Old Man groan piercing my ears, slumping in their seat to match my position.

 

Shiro’s good-arm helped him move the chair back, brushing off the crumbs on his shirt that came from the dirtied table. “Well, I’ll see you guys later? We’re off for Aerodynamics today.”

 

“See ya’,” Pidge and I cooed in unison.

 

“Bye bye~” Matt waved to the two of us, but didn’t step out until he landed a kiss on Shiro’s lips, making him transform into a blushing mess.

 

With a mutual stare of confusion, Pidge and I had the epiphany that Matt and Shiro were officially a thing. Goodbye the Shallura train, Shatt has arrived at the station.

 

“I can’t believe this.”

 

“They’re a hot couple.”

 

“Lance!”

 

Smacking the side of my head, Pidge collected the heavy backpack they always wore, deserting me.

 

“Wait, Pidge, bae, come back~!”

 

Pretending to be hurt, I sniffled, making Pidge roll their eyes until they leaned back on my own chair. We promised to wait for Hunk’s shift to be over to head out to NYU, the sounds of actual trains forcing me out of my own thoughts.

 

_The only time Keith rode a train was with me._

 

I physically shook my head, ignoring any trace of Keith that was left inside of my brain. Instead of moving backwards, I would move forward. I could do this on my own, and with the support of those around me. Convincing myself that I’m going to be fine and dandy, I headed into my class, branching off from the Physics geeks. With the help of caffeine and actually writing down notes for the first time in my college-life, I was quite assured that I would pass any exam this class could give me.

 

We’ll be alright… _I’m going to be alright_.

 

And when the clock ticked to eight o’clock, I prepared my writing utensils, ready to take on anything the world will throw at me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THESE EMO TEARS ARE MEANT FOR WRITING
> 
> IM SUCH AN EMOTIONAL MESS BC I KEEP ALTERNATING BETWEEN MM AND WRITING THIS AND ANOTHER FIC AND MY ONESHOT HAS A LOT OF VOTES TOO???? THAT MAKES ME HAPPY???? also i'm debating on confessing to my crush so if that happens you best be on high alert of the most dramatic and depressing thing you will ever read. (fun fact: in 8th grade i wrote a fanfiction about O2L members [don't bring this up though] and i made the OC die by three different ways all at once. because i was rejected. i also made the crush turn out to be a bad guy. point is don't make me upset
> 
> the #klance is not over (just on break. like fall out boy's hiatus)  
> HOPEFULLY THE ARABIC ON SHAY'S LINE WAS RIGHT? I DON'T KNOW IT BUT I TRIED MY BEST TO HUNT DOWN A TRANSLATION. IF I MADE A MISTAKE PLEASE HMU THANKS


	12. TWELVE: Implicit Demand for Proof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the FINAL CHAPTER BOI bc i just am so done with this book idk its not what i hoped it would be BUT I WASNT RAISED A QUITTER SO I AM FINISHING IT IN STYLE AND BC MOST BOOKS ARENT REALISTIC (LIKE THIS ONE IS???) WITH ENDINGS SO BAM 
> 
> so emo
> 
> also this is the shortest chapter of the book but i did that deliberately (not really i just am happy with how it ends)

“That may have been the first exam in my entire life that I got a perfect score on.”

 

“Are you saying you never got a one-hundred in first grade spelling tests?”

 

“…. Silence, Pidge.” Hunk and Pidge scoffed at me crossing my arms in a fake-offended way, other students watching us come out from the building. After our first exams of our second year, we were off to go home, planning on spending hour free time brawling in Mario Kart.

 

Allura called out a farewell from across the staircase, Coran intensely reading a sheet of music notes, and the three of us were alone again. It was a given that Shiro would be busy with the shockingly-new boyfriend of his, that happened to be Matt Holt, and Pidge constantly threatened them today to not be lovey-dovey around them.  

 

_Days like this are the ones that make me wish things could be the way they were before the summer._

 

Yawning to shake off the potential-negativity, I rested my hand into Pidge’s rat-nest (hair), making it shaggy despite their cries of rage. Hunk was off on something related to his family’s problems, and the original squad was off to our apartment once again.

 

\--

 

“Okay… who do you think is hotter: Finn Nelson, or Augustus Waters?”

 

“Pidge, you can’t even compare them… anyways, Finn Nelson will always be the boyfriend we all deserve. I still cry thinking about his butt scene.”

 

Hunk’s faint giggles from across the room were enough to make the both of us join in, eventually tapping out on the floor to cease the horrifically-painful laughing spree. The harmonious aromas of cinnamon and apples made my heart lunge in excitement, agony, and nostalgia – _no, not now, Lance. You promised you wouldn’t act like this_.

 

An unnecessarily-large plate topped with apple crisp was placed into my hands, instantly warming up the numb-coldness that resided in them from the damp weather. Pidge’s plate (more like a pot’s worth) was being sprinkled with Himalayan salt, and I wanted to stab them more now than ever. How could you blasphemously sprinkle that much salt over this gourmet treat?!

 

Without uttering a single consonant, Pidge gave Hunk and I the _anime glare_ , chomping down on a way too big spoonful of the deathly-pink apple crisp. I was going to puke.

 

The ever-familiar _Fall Out Boy_ notes blared from my phone, all three of us stopping mid-movement.

 

“Lance?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Is that…”

 

“Hunk, don’t say it,” Pidge stood up from the floor, brushing off the crumbs on their expensive sweatshirt, without a care in the world. “I’ll answer it. It’s probably something from Finn, anyways. He’s always spamming you with Cuban family memes from the 2008 Facebook era.”

 

I subconsciously puckered my lips at that; they weren’t wrong. Finn was the type to send photos with Comic Sans on it unironically, typically relating back to the stereotypical Cuban jokes found online. Before I knew it, Patrick Stump’s voice was canceled out by the clicking of Pidge’s uncomfortably-fast typing, their eyes visually twitching once they froze.

 

Unable to make any words own my own, Pidge’s forced cackle was enough to make me stop worrying, holding up the phone to a photo of high school Shiro. “Ha, ha ha, looks like Matt is the one sending you memorabilia now.” Why did that sound so…. strained? “Anyways, let’s change your ringtone. ‘Coffee’s for Closers’ is a banging theme, but it’s autumn. You need some new songs.”

 

Hunk hummed in agreement, listing off multiple songs that were suitable. “Wait… how about something from _Knuckle Puck’s_ new album? You know that’s emo and autumn-esque.”

 

Gasping in false shock, Pidge’s shiteating grin was displaced by raising up the phone as a shield, tapping ferociously on the screen. “Fucking perfect… annnnnnd, done!”

 

“ _You grew from a seed. Forever strong as a pine tree. Always an_ evergreen.” 

 

The two goofballs highfived in success, but something strange was bubbling up inside of my stomach. Just the color green being mentioned… and I was reminded of Keith.

 

If Keith was _red_ , green was the opposite color.

 

And maybe that’s what I need; something opposite from before. Something that will rewind my life back and fill in all the holes and crevices littered throughout my past.

 

“Guys… we should go to _Ukiyo’s_ concert tonight… I changed my mind on not going.”

 

That’s right: I’m an unstoppable train until the moment I perish, and I’ll keep moving forward after all the stops I take. The only thing keeping me from moving on, is myself.

 

I am my worst enemy, and my only hope.

 

\--

 

_“I feel indigo…. And I wish you’d just call, and we could hash it out,  
I could tell you what I’m so mad about.”_

 

Banging my head inside the mosh pit, Shiro’s raspy vocals mixed in with Allura’s smooth tone, hitting the notes just right for the song. The line-up tonight was full of pop punk and alternative bands, the music festival being for Breast Cancer Awareness month. That didn’t stop Pidge from initiating brawls with every person that blocked their view of the stage, and eventually ended up on Hunk’s shoulders, vehemently dancing the best they could with the use of their upper-torso. I could point out how much Hunk was uncomfortable, but would even give up his own desire to mosh so his friend could have a hype time.

 

Hunk is too generous, and it stings every time; hydrogen peroxide poured straight over a grave cut.

 

The start of “Black Sheep” by _Metric_ made Pidge start yelling on top of Hunk, everyone thrown into a frenzy about the _Scott Pilgrim vs The World_ soundtrack being performed before their very eyes. But for me, it brought back even more painful memories. At one point, I firmly believed Keith would have been my Ramona Flowers, but that dream was crushed in his own hands, right in front of me.

 

Now, Pidge back-flipped off of Hunk’s shoulders, swaying and head-banging with him to the beat. Without the hardcore punk vibe, the pit was significantly less violent, beyond the select few drunkards who decided it was cool to break glass bottles on their friends.

 

Absolutely shameful.

 

Mariana and Allura were leaning on each other, beautifully performing the song: I wish someone would film their whole concert one day. The perfect-performance was enthralling enough as it was, but their faces and actions even made the entire experience a million times better. Especially Matt suspiciously inching towards Shiro the entire time.

 

The second the song transitioned into Shiro’s fluent-Japanese, the hidden weeaboos in the back of the crowd squealed. “Party Poison” undeniably was Shiro’s best song, and flawlessly executed the intro sequence while matching the drums to the beat.

 

Not a single soul had chill after _My Chemical Romance_ began.

 

Full-blown head thrashing and body-slamming took place again in the mosh pit that freakishly resembled a black hole, and it took me half a second to recognize the alien-stitched jeans in the middle of the pit. Oh, I wouldn’t ever forget those horrendous pants – hell, they flashed before me in the middle of the night, and in every living moment I was awake. My eyes traveled up from the haunting choice of fashion, beyond the PacSun sweater, the freshly-cut-yet-still-greasy hair, and met the pair of eyes that simultaneously was the venom and nostrum to my sanity.

 

Keith was here.

 

My mind paralyzed from the single exchange we had, although my body was not, and my legs hurriedly moved me away from the serpent who stole not only my heart, but my happiness.

 

This can’t be happening, right? It would be a sick twist of fate for this to be real.

 

“Lance?”

 

No, no it’s not happening.

 

“Is that you, Lance?”

 

The fuse of _My Chemical Romance_ and Keith was making my slowly-repairing sanity shatter in a matter of seconds, and I couldn’t stop recalling the moment I met Keith. He was listening to this very same song, and the once-endearing side of him was tainting me in poison.

 

Never again will I let this happen to me. I don’t care if he’s here, _I shouldn’t care, why do I care? Why are you indecisive_? _He singlehandedly bruised your recovery, and he’s going to do it again._

 

Whether the world was caving in, or if it was my sobs breaking my balance, I ran for my life, not daring to gaze back even once... I knew that if I saw Keith again, I would fall apart wholly, and I’m not damaging myself more than I already have.

 

\--

 

“What the hell happened out there, Lance?!” Mariana was the first one to consult me after the show was completed.

 

Bouncing my leg, I shifted my head to the right to avoid a lecture for crying. “I have a headache- “

 

“Bullshit!” Jumping in my seat, I noticed Pidge was now inside the backstage room, Hunk drifting a few feet behind. “That was clearly a sign that something wrong happened, what was it? Did Keith really show up tonight?”

 

“What… do you mean by that?”

 

“That text you got before was from Shiro, he knew Keith was coming to the show and warned you. I… deleted it from your phone, hoping that he wouldn’t dare to show his face in this part of the city after the shit he did to you. Don’t get mad at me, but I think he’s an asshole for what he did, and I don’t care if I had to hide that from you. We’re doing our best to protect you, not harm you. Right, Hunk?” His reassuring thumbs up gave Pidge’s words enough ammunition to brand my soul with the harsh reality of the situation. They both took a seat diagonal from me, genuine panic and fury both plastered on their faces.

 

Don’t lie anymore, Lance: look at what it has done to you. They need to know the truth.

 

Actions speak louder than words, and I made mine an open book, nodding my head in agreement while streams of tears fell down my cheeks. “Oh, Lance… I’m so sorry,” Hunk’s tremulous voice painted a coat of protection in my mind, and leaned over the sticky table, bringing me into an awkward half-hug. “Fuck Keith. You know I barely curse, but I’m serious on this one… you don’t deserve someone who will bring you to euphoria one second, and a place worse than hell for the rest of time. You’ll get through this, and you have us.”

 

“Damn it, now I’m gonna cry, too,” Pidge sniffled, jumping in on the hugging action, beckoning Mariana to also come over. “We love you like a family, you shithead, and I swear to God I’ll pull a Doctor Thredson and skin him and sell lamps made of his stupidly white skin and give them to some creepy guy that’s making money by selling those stupid bags on the side of the street- “

 

“Dios mio, that’s too much of a stretch. Lance is too much of a twat to deserve that kind of special treatment.”

 

“Mariana!”

 

It’s bittersweet, revealing your vulnerability to the people you wish had smiles forever. Even in my worst moments, where my soul is divided in halves, I hope they’ll never experience the suffering I’ve endured for years. Sorrow is inevitable, but there’s a boundary between sadness, and torturous trauma. The people I call my friends… they deserve a world of security, and gaiety… however, the brutal truth is that no one is free from pain. It affects every single one of us, from those with the purest of hearts, to the miscreants, to the people who are broken at every edge and still carry on with life.

 

There’s miles left until the end, right?

 

Begrudgingly, Mariana wrapped one of her arms around my neck, wobbling all four of us gently. “So, do we have to kill Keith?”

 

“No, you don’t,” my voice may have been shaky, but I knew it wasn’t right to blame it all on him. “I’ll be fine; I just need some time… I rather not have another stain on my record.”

 

“Like that one time you spilled coffee all over your lab report for chemistry and you had to redo an hour’s worth of work?”

 

“…. Hunk, let’s not speak of that, ever again.”

 

“Noted.”

 

With the millionth friendly-insult I received in my life, the four of us carried on a rather pleasant conversation, bouncing between the strangest of topics: how Pidge hasn’t shaved their legs in seven months, that I should go back to my therapist, how Mama claims Bianca needs to leave the house although she’d miss her, the story behind Hunk’s constellation of mosquito bites on his ankle, and ended on the comment of how Allura’s hair is full of secrets.

 

The rest of the squad barged in and made light banter, even though they were all sweaty and exhausted from navigating through the crowds after the show. This may have been the first time Coran’s mustache appeared more similar to a cheeto rather than the Lorax, and the picture was engraved into my brain.

 

A heavy burden was pushed off of my shoulders, and I knew what I had to do. I had to reset everything.

 

\--

 

“Hole in the Ground” by Tyler Joseph was playing out of Shiro’s phone, snuggled up on my bed alongside Pidge and Hunk. Allura was nervously pacing in my own room, not helping out my own nerves.

 

“Are you gonna do it, Lance?”

 

“I… I’m trying, Pidge. It’s just…”

 

“Scary?” Shiro’s voice inquired, and I bashfully agreed with his statement, thumb hovering over the DELETE button. “Lance, I get that it’s frightening: change usually is. However, time won’t stop whether you leave things be, or you make the change yourself. You can do this, we all believe in you, and we’ll get some dinner afterwards. Okay?” Untensing my neck, I accepted his offer with a husky sigh, jutting out my bottom lip when I placed my finger on the button.

 

**_DO YOU WISH TO DELETE THIS CONTACT?_ **

 

Inhale, exhale… tap.

 

**_YOU HAVE DELETED ZUKO KOGANE FROM YOUR CONTACTS._ **

 

Throwing my phone down in defeat, I let my head rest on the board behind my bed, creating a mental trail between the stars on my roof. Such a miniscule action felt like a grand achievement, and a failure. This was the final stand I made against Keith for his actions, and I refuse to be let down again. It was vital for me to move on with my own life.

 

Shiro’s left hand disheveled my bedhead even more so, Allura snorting at the disastrous hair on my head. “Alright, let’s go get some fancy food. Who’s paying?”

 

Dead silent.

 

“Uhh… guys, I thought we all had this figured out- “

 

“Last one to Hunk’s trashy car gets to buy all of us dinner!”

 

“Oi!”

 

Pidge literally flipped off the edge of the bed, bolting out of my room with Allura and Shiro following behind her. Hunk’s offended stance was enough to give me a leeway to get ahead of him, and he was even more hurt at my childlike behavior.

 

“You guys! We’re all _broke_!”

 

 Nobody paid attention to his cries of desperation, and Hunk indeed ended up paying for everyone’s share at Chick Fil A. Although Allura did sneak him a few bucks afterwards for the treat, what a class-act.

 

The middle of October was always gorgeous in the city, even though there was a sparse number of trees. Orange colors were everywhere, and the hipsters of New York were decked out in shades of brown, yellow, and maroon, ranging from outfits worth twenty dollars to twenty-thousand. Indeed, it was the most breathtaking time of the year.

 

Taking a bite of my sandwich, the five of us traipsed across numerous blocks, snapping photos for Instagram and Tumblr on our wondrous trek. Tourists were at a record low, and the amount of smoke blighting the air was not as potent as it tended to be.

 

Whether it was the refreshing weather, or the thrilling feeling of change, I was in a good mood.

 

Nothing will stop me, not the smell of cigars, nor the people shoving us off the sidewalk in a hurry, or the boy in flannel guzzling down a coffee, and definitely not the sore area on my arm from Pidge digging their nails into me to stop my movements.

 

“We should talk.”

 

Don’t show emotion, you’re better than this. You won’t stoop low enough for anyone to hurt you anymore.

 

Lifting my chin up slightly, I gave the boy in front of me the most chillingly-neutral expression I could, not giving into the same hypnosis I would have been a victim to months prior. “Let’s talk, Keith.”

 

\--

 

Keith and I were sitting in the Starbucks he just bought his drink from, the rest of the group nervously watching from across the shop. My resolve did not waver nor falter once, and I managed to lock eye contact with Keith for a prolonged period of time before he spoke again.

 

“I…. wanted to apologize.”

 

“For what? Lying to me, hurting me, leaving out of nowhere?”

 

I’ll admit it: I was being harsh, but he did not earn my trust back, and he knew that. Keith’s head was bowed down gently, eyes shifting back-and-forth shyly. “I get that I made a mistake, but I don’t want it to e-end like this. I hope you won’t always harbor negative and detrimental feelings towards me,” an unsteady voice was flying out of his mouth, and it made me freeze in my tracks. _That was unexpected_. “I didn’t want you to get caught up in my mess any longer. I know you were caught in my web of lies and drama, and… the only way I knew to free you, was to end this.”

 

There was the slightest pang of 'heartache' on his features, and I could just feel myself being sucked in again… but I’m not going to allow this, I’m not going to let my life be dictated once more. “Did you even love me, Keith?”

 

Both of us were equally surprised by my words: I hoped to get out a few more furious comments, but that was washed out of capability. My heart was in control more than my brain, just like before.

 

Gulping, Keith leaned a bit forward on the table, a shimmer glazing over his eyes from the poorly-lighted room. “I did… I, I do…” He doesn't look like he's falling apart. “I still fucking do, and I’ve made so many mistakes this entire time- “

 

“Thank you, Keith.”

 

I stood up from the booth, his attention centered in completely on me. A tiny, vitriolic smile developed on my lips, as I stared Keith down before I could form words. “Thank you for making me realize what a piece of **shit** you are.”

 

The sudden shift of fake grief to confusion gave me enough time to recover from his false words, and I dumped my iced coffee on top of his head, everyone in the coffee-shop gasping and awestruck at the scene.

 

“Consider this our closure: I’ll never forget what happened, nor will I budge and forgive you for the _fakest_ apology I’ve ever received in my life. I don’t love you anymore, and I’m proceeding on with my own life. I’m going to become the best fucking author ever, and you never even asked me what I aspired to be. You never even knew I wanted to be in Physics, or what my favorite color was, or what my favorite band is… you never asked me how my day was, how I liked my eggs, or what I wanted. So watch me in despair, because I’m going to transform before your very own fucking eyes, without you by my side.”

 

Brushing off the syrup residue from my hands, I gave Keith one last, spiteful kiss to the forehead, waves of confidence flooding inside of my frame. “Don’t ever contact me again, Keith Kogane, because the Lance you knew is long gone, and refuses to look back in regret.”

 

Throwing him the last napkin saturated in coffee, I turned around and sauntered right out of the store, a victorious smirk creating dimples in my cheeks. Pidge and Allura both placed me in a playful headlock once we were outside, laughter filling the atmosphere around me. Not tears, not threats, not yells – sounds of true happiness.

 

Our story was concluded, once and for all, and I couldn’t contain my amusing relief.

 

“Now, let’s get some real fucking coffee, Hunk. It’s on me this time, I promise.”

 

A dying leaf landed on the top of my head, Shiro picking it off and crumpling it to pieces. “Sounds like a decent plan to me.”

 

\--

 

**_ KINKY SPACE NUNS _ **

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : guysguysguys

 **Pidgey CP 45** : GUESS WHAT

 

 **Hunky Man** : Pidge it is four in the morningggg what’s up

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : I got the job I applied to last month hoLY SHIT! I’m going to BecomEE THE GREATEST ENGINEER OF ALL TIME

 **Pidgey CP 45** : KISS MY ASS SCHOOL IM OUT OF HERE

 

 **Allurduh** : OOOOOOOO WHERE IS IT?

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : AHAHAHHHHAHAAHAHAHA IM MOVING TO FRANCE

 

 **#DAD** : Pidge, that’s great news! I’m so happy for you

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : thanks dad/uncle

 

 **caBROn** : THAT’S GOOD PIDGE

 **caBROn** : but I have a dileMMA HUNK I NEED YOU

 **caBROn** : we’re ouUtTtT OF FUFKCING TOILET PAPER AND I

 

 **Hunky Man** : god, here we go again

 

 **Allurduh** : sigh

 

 **#DAD** : really, Lance, really…

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : KYAHAHAHA

 **Pidgey CP 45** : lance, never change.

 

 **caBROn** : I don’t intend on doing so but can someone just get this innocent man some damn toilet paper before I die

 

 **Hunky Man** : why is my life full of misery

 

 **Allurduh** :

 

 

 **Pidgey CP 45** : allura is jane lane confirmed

 

 **#DAD** : I’m having war flashbacks

 

 **caBROn** : JUST GET MESOMEDAMNNNTOILET PPA PER

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coffee's for Closers comes to a closure lmao, kms 
> 
> you guys knew i had to end with the last group chat bc it was depressing enough

**Author's Note:**

> cant write summaries for shit bc this was a spur of the moment kind-of-story, but we'll see if i continue on with it. trying my best to get back into the groove of writing. BUT:
> 
> \- Lance is Cuban (changed the last name to Sanchez bc i prefer it more than McClain), Hunk is Hawaiian, Keith is Korean (last name wasn't changed, the reason behind that will be brought up later). 
> 
> \- Yes, I know Spanish. I'm Spanish & Panamanian 
> 
> \- Yes, Lance's family is involved in this
> 
> \- Pidge is non-binary 
> 
> \- Lance is bi (which is p much accepted throughout the Voltron fam anyways) 
> 
> Commentary is hella appreciated, hopefully it wasn't too bad!!!


End file.
